Hear Me Roar in Winter
by Balfabulous
Summary: When she is demoted from Princess to Lady, Cassana Baratheon feared she would never achieve her dream of becoming one of the most powerful women in history, but she was wrong. As daughter to a King she began to want more. As wife to a King she will make and break kingdoms. And as the adviser to a King she will help forge the greatest dynasty Westeros has ever seen.
1. The King Needs a New Hand

Chapter 1: The King Needs a New Hand

It wasn't her handmaiden who woke Cassana up in the morning. Feeling herself wake up, yet not hearing the gentle call of her handmaiden, or smelling her breakfast left her feeling a little bit confused as to _why_ she had woken up. Then the bells tolled again, and she realised that they were the cause.

This realisation caused her to bolt upright in bed, her blonde hair swinging forward in a curtain. With no important weddings or births due in the capitol, the bells could only mean one thing, death. As for whose death, Cassana knew of only one person in the castle who had been ill enough to suspect.

Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King.

Resenting the early interruption to her sleep, but knowing that sooner or later someone would be in to rouse her anyway, Cassana pushed back her blankets with a sigh. And she'd been having such a nice dream too.

_She stood in front of the dais, bowed low before her King, who sat high above her on the majestic Iron Throne of Westeros. The entire Court and many other nobles stood assembled behind her, and the feel of everyone's eyes on her gave her a feeling of nervousness that she rarely experienced. Having grown up at Court, and being in her position, she was used to the attention of others. But this felt different, this felt special._

_A hush fell across the room as King Robert began to speak._

"_My eldest child and daughter, Cassana Baratheon," he intoned, "I hereby name you as my heir, and heir to the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. When the Gods take me, you shall take the Iron Throne, and rule as I once did. It is yours by right of birth and blood."_

_Cassana felt a sudden intake of breath cut to her lungs as she gave a gasp of shock. A roar rose up from the audience behind her, every single voice raised in cheer. Well, all but one. To the right of her father stood her younger brother. Anger and resentment radiated from Joffrey, the glare he sent his sister was pure poison, but there was nothing he could do._

_Cassana barely even noticed him, beyond the slight feeling of smugness that she had taken his precious status as Crown Prince from him. She didn't notice because her mother had come to her and pulled her into a tight hug, whispering in her ear._

"_My daughter, my favourite, you deserve this more than anyone."_

_And in that moment, as the bells tolled joyously in the background, Cassana had been the happiest she'd ever felt in her entire life._

That is, until she woke up to discover that the bells really _were_ tolling, and rousing her from her longed for dream. A frown creased her brow as she pulled her robe on over her nightdress, that dream would never come into reality. Joffrey would get everything, despite being a terror. He would get the throne, the kingdoms, and all of their mother's affections. A wave of jealousy rose up within her, but she was forced to squash it back down when she heard the door to her apartments opening.

"Olena? I need you to-" she broke off, realising that it wasn't her maid, "Mother, what can I do for you?"

"You heard the bells, I presume," Cersei said; sitting herself down in one of Cassana's chaise lounges.

"They woke me," Cassana complained; flopping down into the opposing lounge.

"They are abominably loud in this part of the Keep," Cersei agreed. "I would offer you breakfast, but my maid hasn't brought it yet," Cassana apologised.

"I intercepted her on her way here, and informed her that I would be dining with you, she had to go back and get more."

A jolt of surprise ran through Cassana. It wasn't often that her mother sought her out for alone time like this. When Cassana had been little, Cersei had constantly made time for her, and Cassana had loved it. Back then, both of her parents had doted on her. But, as the years went by, she and her father grew more and more distant, and she had to fight harder with Joffrey for their mother's affections.

She recovered herself though, "What happens now?"

"What always does when a hand dies," her mother replied with a shrug, "Your father will choose a new Hand, and life in the Capitol will continue."

"But it won't be the same, will it?"

Cassana couldn't explain why she said it, but as soon as she did, she knew it was true. The passing of Jon Arryn, one of her father's oldest friends and father figure, would mean a great many changes for the running of the Kingdoms.

"Yes, yes I do believe it will," Cersei agreed, "We can influence it in our favour however, by influencing who your father picks."

"Do you think we can do that?" Cassana asked; doubt creeping into her tone, she knew her father's stubbornness.

"Your father can be… set in his ways," Cersei said, reading Cass' mind, "However, I pray that we can convince him what the right course of action for this situation is."

"What-"

But Cassana was interrupted when her handmaiden returned, leading a trio of other servants bearing breakfast for the Queen and Princess.

"Where would you like your breakfast, highnesses?" Olena asked; curtsying before the royal women.

"We'll take it in front of the balcony," Cassana replied, her mother did not object.

She and Cersei held their conversation on pause as the servants opened her balcony doors, moved the table over to them, and set up the repast. Cassana's dormant hunger rose at the sight and smell of the food. Pastries, breads, fruit, cold meats, a pot of chilled tea imported from the Summer Isles, juices, and water.

"Will there be anything else, Princess?" Olena inquired as soon as the meal was laid out.

"No thank you, Olena, you may go," Cassana commanded, "But wait by the door, I'll call you in to help me dress later."

"Yes, Princess," Olena bobbed another curtsy before leaving the room, ushering the other servants ahead of her.

Mother and daughter rose as one when the help left, crossing over to the table, and taking the opposite positions which had been laid for them.

"Tea?" Cassana offered; proffering the pot to her mother.

Cersei held out a her cup, "Thank you, daughter."

"So, what is the right course of action?" Cassana asked as she poured first her mother's tea, then her own, "I'm assuming you have someone chosen?"

"Your grandfather," Cersei replied; helping herself to the selection of pre-cut fruits.

Cassana smiled. Of course, grandfather, the mighty Tywin Lannister. He really was the perfect choice. She loved her grandfather, and she always knew that he put family first, there was no loss in her eyes with him being made Hand of the King.

She nodded as she selected herself a pastry filled with berries, "Grandfather is an excellent choice. He is largely responsible for father being able to gain the throne, he has previous experience as Hand, not to mention his skill with politics. I can't imagine why father wouldn't choose him himself."

"Do remember that your father did not choose him after the war, he chose Jon Arryn instead," Cersei reminded.

"Yes, yes," Cassana said, taking a quite bite before continuing, "But that was years ago, and Jon Arryn had been father's father figure ever since father was fostered at the Eyrie, and he had been one of the first people to support his rebellion. He wasn't a _bad_ hand, and I understand why father chose him then, but now he has the chance to make a better choice, surely he will do so."

"I wouldn't put too much faith in your father's intelligence when it comes to decisions like this, he gets far too sentimental," Cersei took a sip of her tea, "As Jon Arryn grew older, he talked about taking on Ned Stark as his next Hand."

Cassana choked on the bite of pastry she had just been about to swallow, and had to sip some tea after the ensuing coughing fit which arose. This was her general reaction to having the Starks mentioned recently. The closer it got to her seventeenth name-day, the more nervous she grew whenever she heard that name.

"But… Lord Stark hasn't been South since the war. He hates politics, he doesn't know anything about King's Landing or running the Kingdoms. Even if father offered, I'm sure he'd turn it down, father must know that and see that it's pointless."

Cassana knew she was babbling, and from the level look her mother was giving her, she knew too.

"Cass…why is it that you get so nervous when the Starks are mentioned recently? The engagement has been in place since you were born, though I wish to the Gods that it wasn't."

"It's just… getting close," Cassana replied pathetically, "I still haven't even met him, we haven't written to each other since we were little. I don't know what I'll be walking into when the time comes."

Cersei reached across the table to grasp her daughter's hand, "I didn't know your father before I married him. But from what we know, Robb Stark doesn't drink in excess, he doesn't whore and father bastards everywhere he goes, and you've had no one go before you. That's a better start than I had."

"I know," Cassana squeezed her mother's hand comfortingly, then composed herself, "Well, how do we make sure that father makes the right choice for the Kingdoms?"

"I have already spoken to him about it," Cersei pulled back, "But he won't listen to me alone. I've already met with most of the Small Council, and they have assured me that they will try to sway him, I should like you to do the same."

An unladylike snort escaped Cassana before she could stop it, "Father wouldn't listen to me."

"Well, then it won't hurt to try," Cersei countered.

"Alright," Cassana sighed, rubbing at her temples, "How has Lysa taken her husband's death?"

A grimace tightened her mother's face, "She has left the capitol already, taking her son with her."

That news shocked Cassana yet again. Why would Lysa leave so soon after Jon's death? Cassana knew that there was no love between the couple, but surely it is a wife's duty to oversee her own husband's funeral rites. That Lysa Arryn had not even stayed long enough for that made Cassana feel very worried. What could cause her to seemingly flee her husband's death?

**/*0*/**

Later on that afternoon Cassana was hurrying down the corridors or the Red Keep, attempting to smooth the creases from her simple dress as she walked. Simple, tastefully sombre, but not a mourners black; that was suitable attire for a royal family member following the death of a Hand.

"What does father want?" Tommen pipped up from behind.

Cassana cast a glance over her shoulder at the two little siblings who were following in her wake.

"I don't know, he's called us all in to meet him, and he'll tell us then."

Both Tommen and Myrcella looked a little crestfallen at not knowing what they had been called away from play for, and on the inside Cassana shared that emotion, with added apprehension. They were still only children, and were not quite able to comprehend the impact that Jon Arryn's death would have on their lives, depending on what their father chose to do, which may be what he called them together for.

As the three royal siblings swept into her father's private chambers, Cassana saw that their mother and Joffrey were already in attendance. Inclining her head in a respectful not to her father, and dropped a small curtsy for good measure.

"My apologies if I am late."

"No, no," her father turned away from the window, as always, with a wine glass in hand.

"Well, Robert, what have you called us all in here for?" Cersei demanded; shooting a contemptuous glass at her rotund and undoubtedly drunk husband.

"I met with the Small Council earlier," he announced, "Blasted annoying those meetings. But the heart of it is, I've chosen my new Hand, I am going to ask Ned Stark."

"Robert, you can't!"

"Father, you can't!"

Three separate protests, one from Cersei, one from Joffrey, and the other from Cassana; Tommen and Myrcella said nothing, simply looked between their siblings and parents silently.

Robert arched one eyebrow at his family, "Oh, you don't agree do you? Well that's too damned bad, I've made up my mind, and I've already sent a raven telling him that the Royal Court will be travelling to Winterfell."

"Travelling?" Cersei repeated; aghast, "Surely you can't be serious."

"I'm bloody serious," he countered, "The reasons why will not be public knowledge, though I suspect many will guess. I will ask him in person."

"Because you know he would refuse a raven, because you know he will refuse the offer," Cersei stated bluntly.

"He won't refuse me," Robert refuted adamantly.

"Father, you know that he wouldn't want it anyway!" Cassana blurted out, "Why not just make grandfather the Hand? He is a far better-"

"Ha!" Robert interrupted, turning to Cersei, "You got to her first as well, woman?"

"He is the logical choice!" Cassana exclaimed before her mother could reply to her husband's barb, "Why not?"

"Because I am King," Robert stated bluntly, "And as King, I choose not to choose your political snake of a grandfather!"

"Robert! How dare you speak of my father like that," Cersei fumed.

"I'll speak of him as I damn well please," Robert said offhandedly.

"Does the whole Court have to travel?" Cassana questioned, "Surely just a small party would suffice?"

Robert fixed her with an even stare, and she felt her stomach drop.

"Even if that were the case, you would still be in that small party," he said, "I also wrote in the letter that your marriage to Robb Stark would be brought forward, and that the reason we travel to Winterfell is for the ceremony."

Cassana felt the wind driven out of her, "But, father, you agreed-"

"You promised that it would wait until she was seventeen!" Cersei interjected angrily, "You-"

"Seventeen, sixteen, it doesn't make a difference," he said, "Girls younger than her are married already, some even have birthed a baby or two, she is well old enough."

"But, Robert-"

"No," he cut her off sharply, "I let you have your way when you refused to let her be fostered at Winterfell, you will not have it now. Perhaps if I had not bent to you then, this would not be an issue now."

"Surely this should be a happy day for you, sister dear," Joffrey put in smugly, "Don't all women just _dream_ of their weddings?"

Cassana shot him a glare, but his smug expression didn't change. Whatever annoyance he felt about his father's choice was superseded by the joy he felt in knowing that Cassana wouldn't enjoy having her marriage brought forward. He was made happy by her own worry and apprehension concerning the union.

Oh how she hated him.

"I summoned you all to tell you the events," Robert said, "I have told you. Ned Stark will be my new Hand, Cassana and Robb will marry when we reach Winterfell, we leave in a week. This has been decided, there is no changing it. You are all dismissed."

Cassana took one more angry look at her father, and saw that he meant every word he had just said.

Her fury doubling, she turned and stormed out of the room ahead of her family.


	2. Cold as Hearts

**AN: Oh wow, so many reviews, alerts, and favourites already! Thank you all so much :3  
Also, if any of you were wondering what I picture Cassana looking like, there's a like on my profile if you click on her name. I used the actress Anita Briem, who played Jane Seymour in 'The Tudors'.  
Happy reading!**

Chapter 2: Cold as Hearts

"Jon, you fight like an old woman!" Robb taunted as he deflected another thrust from his brother.

"At least I fight like a human, not a lumbering ox," Jon shot back, side-stepping the blow Robb threw at his left side.

"Ha!"

Robb let out a bark of laughter as he and his brother clashed training blades in the courtyard of Winterfell. Their father's master-at-arms watched them carefully, but made no comments. Ser Roderick Cassel had been tutoring them in the sword since they had been boys, there was very little he had left to teach them, and so he was content to watch his pupils spar with the skills he had given them.

The Northern afternoons were growing increasingly chilled, but the boys had worked up a fair sweat with their exercise. It was just the distraction they both needed after this morning's events. The face of the Watchman deserter flashed across Robb's mind as he struck. One day, it would be him who would have to pass the sentence and swing the sword, was he ready? He didn't feel it.

The two brothers were incredibly evenly matched, and more frequently than not, these duels ended in an amicable draw. Which generally meant that they reached a point where they tossed aside their swords, and began trying to wrestle each other to the ground.

Robb felt that he and Jon were nearing this point, when he was distracted by an attendant.

"Lord Robb! Your father wishes to see you urgently!"

"What?"

Robb's attention was off the match, and Jon took full advantage, swinging hard at his brother, and knocking the sword from his unfocused fingers.

"My win," he proclaimed with a smile, holding his sword to his brother's throat.

Robb's eyes narrowed in mock menace, but he was laughing all the same as he clasped hands with his brother.

"Very well, brother, this time."

"Lord Robb," the attendant prompted.

He turned around, "Yes?"

"Your father wishes to see you, now."

Robb did frown this time, "What for?"

"He didn't say my Lord," the attended shrugged apologetically, "But he and your lady-mother are waiting for you in the council chamber."

Robb sighed, "Well, I'd better not keep them." He pointed his sword at his brother, "Next time, my victory!"

"Dream on," Jon taunted with a smile.

Robb walked over to the weapons rack, replacing his sword, before removing the hardened leather armour he'd worn for practice. He wasn't in his most presentable state, but he knew that his parents were used to summoning him from practice, so he wasn't overly bothered by the worn state of his shirt and vest.

A frown creased his brow as he paced the long halls of Winterfell, what could his parents be summoning him for? Was it a whole family matter, or had it just been him? His new direwolf pup trotted along at his heels, occasionally racing ahead, but always scampering back to Robb. Pausing momentarily to bend down and scratch the ears of Grey Wind, he allowed himself a moment to considering some possibilities, before he erased them. He didn't want to go in with pre-empted expectations.

He pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the council chamber, and saw that only his father and mother were awaiting him inside, seated at the long table which took up the centre of the room. Grey Wind followed him into the chamber, going off on his own sniffing explorations as Robb stood to attention before his parents.

"Father, you wanted to see me?"

"Indeed, son, sit down," Ned Stark commanded.

"Are the others coming?" Robb asked; taking the seat to his father's right, opposite his mother.

"No, this is something that we wished to speak to you alone about first, before we announce it to the family and castle," his mother replied.

Robb's eyes flicked down to the piece of paper that his father held loosely in one hand, noting the King's seal pressed at the bottom.

"What news from the capitol?" he gestured to the letter.

"Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King, is dead," his father stated solemnly.

"Father, I'm sorry," Robb said with sincerity, "I never met Lord Arryn, but I know that he was a father figure to you."

"Aye, and to Robert," Ned sighed heavily, "But there's more."

Robb glanced between his parents, noting their tight, worried, expressions, "I'm guessing that the 'more' is not good news?"

"That depends on which way we want to interpret it," Catelyn said, "Robb, as you know, you have long been promised to the King's eldest, Cassana."

Robb blinked in surprise. Yes, he did know that, but the information was not often brought up. He had never met his intended, and aside from some awkward letters exchanged as children, he had never spoken with her.

"The King also writes," Ned continued before Robb had the chance to speak, "That he, and most of the Royal Court, are soon to be on the road to Witnerfell. For your marriage to the Princess Cassana Baratheon, to take place five days after their arrival."

Robb blinked a few more times in surprise, and felt the frown return to his brow, "But I thought…"

"Yes, we all had been told that the marriage wouldn't take place until the Princess' seventeenth name-day, next year, but it seems that that is no longer the case. You will be married in just over a month," his mother informed him.

Robb's jaw worked, but he said nothing. This news was indeed surprising, and like his parents, he was unsure as to whether interpret good or bad from it. From what he knew of Cassana, she was beautiful, said to be much like her mother, accomplished, ladylike, but also said to have a truly royal temperament. Despite that, she was a stranger, a woman he'd never met, and in just over a month they would be man and wife.

Robb had wondered earlier if he was ready for the responsibilities that would one day come with being Lord of Winterfell, but now he knew for certain that he was not ready for marriage. But what could he do? It was going to happen one day, be it a month or a year, so why were his palms suddenly sweating?

"Robb?" his mother prompted.

He realised that he had missed a question, "Sorry, I was distracted."

She smiled sympathetically, "Nervous?"

"No!" he lied swiftly, "Just… surprised. I suppose this is a royal edict, and we can't change it?"

"No," his father said, "It is not so much the wedding which is the issue, we all knew that it would one day occur. It's the timing."

The pieces suddenly clicked together in Robb's head. The death of the former Hand, the sudden speeding up of his wedding plans so that King and Court would have to travel North. He realised that his wedding was being used as a cover-up excuse for the King's objective. He was going to request Robb's father for the new Hand of the King.

"What are you going to say?" he asked; his nerves about his now very imminent wedding overshadowed by this news.

If his father took the position as the Hand, it would change everything for the North. His father would have to go South, which would leave Robb in charge. It would leave the Stark family without it's Lord. His mother wouldn't go, not with Rickon being so small, and so his father would be in the South alone. Robb knew that the Southerners did not have the same ideals as those held in the North, and that King's Landing was a hotbed for political intrigue, plots, and betrayals.

His father sighed again, and cast a weary glance down at the paper in his hand, "I don't know, son. I don't know."

**/*0*/**

Cassana glowered at the reflection which stared back at her from the long mirror. The seamstresses who bustled around her had learnt that they should keep absolutely silent during these fittings, save for instructions for Cassana to turn this way or that. Their initial flattery had been met with cold glares and stony silence, they had desisted after two days.

And that had just been back in King's Landing, Cassana's attitude during these fittings had only grown worse the further they travelled. She knew that majority of the camp put it down to the pampered Princess being discomforted by the growing cold as they travelled North, but her family and friends knew the true reason. Well, them and anyone who had been walking by her father's tent last night when they two of them had gotten into rather a large argument.

Cassana had been grateful for her Uncle Jaime's presence in the tent, for he had put a stop to things before they could grow out of hand. Normally Cassana had her mother with her during such meetings to keep at least a minor amount of peace between her and her father, but Cersei had been far too busy doting on Joffrey that night to come with Cassana.

"Well, I would say that you looked like the most beautiful bride-to-be, but that frown does rather spoil the image."

Cassana turned her gaze from the mirror, and felt her expression soften, "Uncle Jaimie! Please, just give me one moment."

"I think that's enough fitting for one evening," she told the seamstresses, "Help me get out of the dress so that I may receive my uncle."

"Yes, Your Highness," they murmured.

Cassana was shifted to behind her dressing screen, and extracted from the complicated garment. She nearly let it fall to the floor in a heap of silk and jewels, but her seamstresses carefully gathered up the fabric and hung it with care. Following this, they dressed her in a far more comfortable gown, and wrapped a cloak around her. She cursed the chilled North, her entire wardrobe from King's Landing would either have to be altered, completely done away with, or she could have to resign herself to a life walking around wrapped in cloaks to keep the cold off her bare skin. She sighed, dreading the impact her change of residence would have on her finery.

When she emerged, she saw that her uncle had sent for some more mulled wine, and was holding two cups of it in his hands. He held one out to Cassana, who took it gratefully, wrapping her hands around the warm metal.

"I thought you'd gotten rid of the frown," he teased, tapping her forehead.

Cassana took a calming inhale of the warm spiced wine, "I was mourning the loss of beauty. None of the things that are in fashion back home will I be able to wear here, unless I want to freeze."

"And it's not even winter," Jaimie noted mildly.

Cassana shot him a glare over the rim of her cup as she took a sip, and his expression softened.

"I wanted to see how you were after last night," he said, "I know that this must be hard for you, and your father doesn't seem to understand that."

"Huh," Cassana tossed her hair and took a seat in one of her camp chairs, "To him this isn't even about me, it's just a convenient excuse to travel North. It's never been about me. This union was put in place before I could even _think_ for myself, let alone have a say!"

"Cass," Jaimie gave her a sympathetic look, "You're a princess, it's unlikely that you would have had a say, no matter what age it was brought about at. Your mother didn't have a say, and neither did most of the married women at Court. Not even all of the men had a say, if that helps."

"Not really," Cassana took another long sip of wine, "But thank you for trying, Uncle Jaimie."

She sighed, leaning forwards, clasping the cup between her two hands, "It's just… I knew that one day I would have to go North to marry Robb, I've always known that, but now that it's actually happening, I don't' feel prepared."

"That's normal," he assured her, taking the seat opposite.

"I'm scared, Uncle Jaimie," she admitted; looking him in the eye, "I'm scared. I don't want to leave my home, my family, everything that I know behind. I don't know how to live in the North, I don't know how to fit in with the Starks, I don't know how to be married to one. I'm going to miss mother so much, and Tommen, Myrcella, you, all of my friends. I have nothing in the North. Nothing."

"Hey," Jaimie put down his cup and went over to his niece, kneeling before her so that their green eyes were level, "You are your mother's daughter, you are strong, you can do this. I know that, and so does your mother, so does everyone who knows you. You will not have _nothing_. You are Cassana Baratheon, Princess of Westeros, you will always have that."

Cassana smiled sadly, "Not after I'm married. Back at home, I am a Princess. I am daughter to a King, I and daughter to the strongest woman I know, granddaughter to the greatest politician and general. After I'm married, I'll no longer have that. I won't be a Baratheon, I will be a Stark. I won't be a Princess, I'll only be a Lady. I don't know when I will next see my family again, or indeed if I even will."

"Jaimie, will you leave us?"

Cassana jerked her head around, she had not heard her mother enter her tent, but there she stood. Queen Cersei, holding herself high, the picture of grace and power. Jaimie stood with Cassana, and gave his niece a tight hug. He put a hand on his sister's shoulder comfortingly as he stepped out of the tent, and then it was just Cassana and her mother.

Cassana wondered how much her mother had heard. She'd tried so hard to be strong in front of her mother, to live up to her, and impress her with how capably she was handling her new situation. She hated that her mother now knew that she was afraid, that she wasn't as strong as her. In her mind she tried to get a hold of herself again, and stop the tears that had been just about to come out following her spiel to her uncle.

"Mother, I…" she trailed off, looking down as she clasped and unclasped her hands in front of her.

"Oh, my daughter," Cersei crossed the tent in quick strides, gathering Cassana up into her arms, "My poor daughter. It's okay, it will all be alright."

Cassana held on tight to her mother, knowing that she understood, and managed not to cry.


	3. Rustic Charm

Chapter 3: Rustic Charm

"Well I hear the Prince is a right royal prick," Robb commented; being very careful with how much he moved his jaw while Tommy shaved him.

"But think of all those Southern girls he gets to stab with his right royal prick," Theon noted; leering and thrusting his pelvis a couple of times.

Robb ignored his comment, wiping the remains of shaving foam from his face as he stood up. He inspected himself briefly in the mirror, and was satisfied with his new appearance. His hair had been cut just a little so that his curls didn't resembled a tangled bush on his head, and his clean-shaven face made him appear younger than his eighteen years. He sighed. Theon and Jon were only being tidied up for the King's arrival, so that the household of Winterfell made a good show. Robb on the other hand, was also being tidied up for his wedding.

Five days. Even when the letter had arrived it had still felt as if he had all the time in the world, but now it was only a matter of days, less than a week in fact. Only the smallest of details remained to be arranged, and Robb was thankful that his mother was more than capable of handling it so that he didn't have to be involved. Thus far the only thing he had done was approve the feat menu and stand still for his fittings.

"What about the Southern girl Robb's going to get to-"

"Shave him good, Tommy," Robb talked over Theon, shoving his brother towards the chair, "He's never met a girl he liked better than his own hair."

Jon shot him an annoyed look, but sat grudgingly still as Tommy began to trim at his long hair back down to a more manageable length. Robb's avoidance didn't go unnoticed by Theon, who pounced on it the way he did any way he could tease his friend.

"Defensive of your lady already, Robb?"

"She's not a 'Southern girl', she's the Princess," Robb corrected; leaning casually against one of the wooden poles, "Show some respect."

"What do we think, Jon? Do we think he's in love already?" Theon snickered.

"I hear she's quite pretty," Jon commented, "Apparently takes after her mother."

"Ooooh, the Queen," Theon whistled appreciatively, "Now there's a woman most men in the Seven Kingdoms would kill for."

"Are you just trying to get your leecherousness out of your system before the Court arrives?" Robb inquired, "Because if so, then I'm sorry friend, but I don't think it will ever work."

"Alright then, I'll be serious," Theon said; a comment which earned him a snort of laughter from both brothers.

"Watch carefully, Tommy, you're about to witness a miracle," Robb chuckled.

"What do you think about her?" Theon asked, "Your bride-to-be?"

"Think?" Robb scratched absently at the back of his neck, "Should I think anything about her?"

"You two have been engaged since you were children," Theon pointed out, "But you barely mention her, or anything to do with her."

Robb shrugged, "Not much to mention, I don't know her, never met her."

"He wrote to her," Jon said.

Robb shot his brother a glare. Thankfully those were the last words Jon would speak for a while, unless he wanted Tommy's razor to slip, but they had been damned annoying ones. Robb had managed to keep that secret from Theon, and had wanted to continue keeping it, knowing that his childhood friend would tease him.

"Oh really?" Theon arched his eyebrows at Robb, his trademark smirk in place.

"When we were children," Robb said defensively, "It was a long time ago, and not many letters, they might as well have not happened."

"If you say so," Theon seemingly accepted this, but Robb knew his friend better. He hadn't heard the last of those blasted letters…

"How does it feel about to marry a total stranger?" he asked.

Robb shrugged yet again, "Not that strange. My parents were strangers once, I'm sure so were yours, Theon. It's normal, for us."

"She arrives today, how curious are you?"

Robb thought for a moment before answering, "Very. All I know about her are the rumours from the capitol. I know she's pretty, but I want to know _more_. I want to know what she's like."

"You know she's pretty, surely that's enough," Theon said; grinning, "I'd take that and think myself a lucky man."

"Doesn't she have a temper? That's all I ever hear about," Jon commented; finally free from his shearing and shaving.

"Doesn't every woman?" Robb shot back.

"What's your plan?" Theon asked.

"My plan?" Robb laughed.

"Your plan," his friend affirmed, "What are you going to do about her?"

Robb considered carefully. He considered his new suit of finery which was hanging in his wardrobe, next to his direwolf emblazoned cloak, waiting for the wedding. He considered the bracelet he had commissioned from the castle jeweller. He considered the extra wardrobe and dressing screen which had already been moved to his rooms. And then he smiled, oh yes, he had a plan.

"Oh dear, that poor girl," Jon said, "That's Robb's plotting smile."

The smile widened to a grin as he tugged his shirt back over his head, "I'm going to charm her."

"Charm her? Charm her? That's your plan?" Theon looked him over, "Well damn you Stark, it might even work!" then he smiled slyly, "If you had any charms to charm with."

Robb launched himself in a tackle towards his friend, bearing Theon to the cold ground and wrestling him to stay down. It wasn't long before Jon joined in, and the three boys were rolling around as if nothing had happened to make them grow up over the years.

Perhaps nothing had, but with the King's arrival, Robb's wedding, and the coming of Winter; something was definitely going to.

**/*0*/**

"No, you can't wear it! And stop asking," Cassana snapped.

Myrcella drew her hand back with a pout, and even looked on the verge of tears. She so rarely had Cassana get angry at her, that when it did happen, she was never sure how to react to it. Cassana normally felt guilty right after displaying anger towards one of her younger siblings, but today she was really in no mood for it, and ignored the pointed look that her mother gave her.

"Here, Myrcella, would you like another apple sweet?"

Corrina Brax, Cassana's closest friend and lady-in-waiting, proffered a tin out towards the little Princess. Myrcella smiled sweetly, and leaned forwards eagerly, as did Tommen.

"The amount of those sweets you two have eaten, you won't fit into your feast clothes tonight," Cassana jibed unnecessarily.

Both her siblings drew back their hands guiltily, sharing a look of both surprise and upset at their sister's accusations. Even Corrina gave Cassana a slightly shocked glance at her prickliness, and as if in defiance, took a sweet herself.

Not that Cassana cared. She looked away from the shuffling citizens of the huge wheelhouse, and peeked through the curtains to look at the Northern countryside. They had been deep in the North for a couple of days now, and it had only continued to grow colder since they had crossed the Neck. The countryside was bleak to Cassana's eye. She was used to the rolling greens, flowered trees, and fragrant flowers of the South. Here in the North there only seemed to be straggly bushes, skeletal trees, and grey clouds.

This was to be her home? She could almost feel the life draining out of her just by looking at it. How was she, a Princess of Westeros, expected to live in this cold seclusion? She fiddled absently with the pendant now hanging around her neck, her thoughts growing bitterer as the ride continued.

She had already been put in a foul mood by the morning's early start, her father had wanted to reach Winterfell in good time, and he'd be damned if it meant the discomfort of others to do so. They had been on the road since dawn, and while Cassana had attempted to get some sleep, the constant rocking and chatter within the wheelhouse made that impossible.

"If you could all please give my daughter and I some space."

Cassana heard the rustle of silk as ladies shifted to further corners of the wheelhouse at her mother's request phrased command. The level of whispering went up, but she knew that it was all just a ruse, and that every single woman would be attempting to listen to what transpired between mother and daughter.

"What has gotten into you?" Cersei demanded.

She felt her mother take the seat opposite her, but still did not turn her glace away from the outside world. What was there to do in Winterfell? Were there beautiful gardens? Entertainers? Markets? Anything? Or was it all going to be as bland as the land it sat in?

"Cassana, look at me."

Not able to ignore a direct command from her mother, Cassana turned her face, and was surprised to see that her mother appeared to be genuinely put out with her.

"What has gotten into you?" she repeated.

Cassana shrugged, "I'm tired, I haven't been sleeping well, and today was an early start."

"We're all tired, Cassana, but that is not an excuse for getting angry at your sister for no reason," Cersei reprimanded.

"Myrcella always wants to touch or wear my things," she said sulkily, "It was the hundredth time she'd asked."

Her mother arched an eyebrow, "And is that why you got angry so quickly?"

"She was being annoying!" Cassana defended; keeping her voice low so as to avoid the eavesdroppers.

"No, you're just on edge," her mother corrected, "You are a Royal Princess, Cassana, that was not a dignified way to act in front of the ladies of the Court."

"Oh, because you've never gotten publically angry before? Or Joffrey, the precious golden son, he's never done worse had he?" Cassana shot back. It was a cheap shot, and her mother's green eyes grew steely.

"I know that you are angry with the situation, but it is what it is," her mother said firmly, "I've tried changing it since you were born, but nothing has worked."

"But-"

"I know that you don't want to be North, and I don't blame you," Cersei interrupted, "This land is as inhospitable as the people who inhabit it. But you are my daughter, and you are strong. Yes, this marriage is not what you want, my marriage turned out to not be what I wanted either. But you _will_ not sulk about it like a little girl. You are a beautiful and intelligent woman, and that means you will find a way to make your marriage work in a way that makes you comfortable, if not happy."

Cassana felt like she'd been slapped, her mother had never reprimanded her like that. Well, she supposed it was half reprimand, half compliment in a way, but parts of it still stung. She was sixteen, how could her mother call her a child? That was unfair!

"Winterfell ahead!"

The cry was echoed down by the soldiers in the column, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold went down Cassana's spine. Her anger was washed out of her, replaced by apprehension. They were here, they were now minutes away, there would be no going back now. She was trapped.

She had been trapped for a long time. It finally dawned on her that this really would have happened, no matter what, she would have to have gone through this. There would have been no changing the situation, it was just the time that had changed. This had always been her path, and she suddenly felt frantic, as if her life was no longer in her control, as if it had never been in her control.

But then her mother's words played over in her mind again, and again. She looked at her mother, and saw a woman who was not in a happy or loving marriage, but she had made what she could from it. She had survived, persevered, and she had become the woman Cassana so admired.

She realised that this whole time, she had been worried about all the things she would be leaving behind, and how much her life would change, how she would no longer be happy. But happiness was not going to be the key issue in a marriage, it never was for people like her. The issue was what you gained from it, and until now, Cassana hadn't seen that she would gain anything. She still didn't know that she would, but she could find out.

It would give her something to do at least.

"Do you understand?"

Her mother was looking at her intently, for a moment Cassana didn't feel as if she could meet her gaze. But then she raised her green eyes up to meet hers, and reached out her hand to grasp her mother's tightly.

"I understand."


	4. The Princess' Arrival

Chapter 4: The Princess' Arrival

Cassana had pulled back from the window as soon as they had entered Winter Town, the small city surrounding Winterfell was filled with people lining the streets. They probably couldn't remember that last time a Royal Tour had made it to the North. She allowed herself a small smirk when she peeked through the curtains and saw their gasping astonishment at the huge royal party, and their pointing hands indicating the gilded wheelhouse she travelled in.

"Cassana?"

"Yes?" she turned to look down at her little sister.

"I'm sorry." Myrcella looked very nervous as she stood before Cassana, twisting her hands awkwardly in front of her.

Her earlier annoyance had dwindled following her conversation with her mother, and looking at Myrcella's downcast, nervous, face made her instantly regret her earlier actions.

"Oh, Myrcella," Cassana drew her into a hug, "I'm the one who is sorry."

Her little sister was beaming by the time she took a step back, "It's it exciting? We're finally here!"

Cassana half winced, half smiled, very nearly relapsing into annoyance at her little sister. Myrcella and Tommen were the sweetest children Cassana had ever met, and she loved her siblings dearly. However, their innocence had left them somewhat oblivious to the reason for her recent mood swings. Oh, they definitely noticed that she was more easily irritated in recent weeks, but they had no inclination as to what the cause may be.

"Yes, exciting…" she muttered under her breath.

"And you're getting married in a few days! Oh! I can't wait!" Myrcella was all but bouncing in a most un-princess like manner, "Are you excited about that too?"

"A little," Cassana replied.

"Only a little? But it's your wedding! Your dress is so pretty, and you're going to look beautiful, and your husband will look handsome, and the ceremony will be beautiful, and then there's the feast-"

"Myrcella? Come here darling, let me fix your hair before we arrive at the castle."

Cassana shot her mother a grateful look as her little sister scampered over to have her hair fixed. It was fine really, but Cersei must have seen the growing agitation on Cassana's face, and elected to save the wheelhouse from another royal outburst. Cassana was thankful that her mother had done so, she would need these last few minutes to calm herself down, and present a proper face to the Starks and their household.

Not that she was worried about making a bad first impression on them. She was Princess Cassana, she was royalty. She felt like it was virtually impossible for them to not take her in with favour as soon as they met her.

Still, it wouldn't do to emerge from the carriage scowling. She schooled her expression carefully, drawing down a mask of calm, something which she had unknowingly copied from her mother. Glancing across the wheelhouse, she saw that her mother was endeavouring to do the same.

She knew that there was little love lost between her mother's family and the Starks, in spite of her father's close bond to Lord Stark. The Stark-Lannister rivalry had been going on for generations, as far as Cassana was aware. It wasn't a rivalry to the extent of war between them, more… a longstanding dislike and sense of mistrust.

The Starks were just so unshakable in their morals, and their honour, their sense of justice. They set high standards for themselves, and expected everyone to agree with them, acting put out when the rest of the world didn't comply. It was a lovely ideal, Cassana had to admit, but it was shockingly naïve for such an old House. It was for that reason that Eddard Stark would make such an unsuitable hand. Yet, despite many objections from his family, her father still intended to name him.

Cassana jerked a little in surprise as the wheelhouse came to a stop. They must have arrived in the courtyard of Winterfell. Myrcella had scrambled back over to her big sister's side, as the ladies in the wheelhouse began to make ready to desend. She reached out to peek through the curtains, but Cassana pushed her hand away.

"But I'm curious!" the little girl protested.

"No, Myrcella," Cassana chastised, "We wait until we exit the wheelhouse, then you can look around. But please, remember that you are a princess, and don't gawk, it's most undignified of a royal family member."

Myrcella pouted, but nodded in acquiescence. Both girls stood and let cloaks be draped around their shoulders. The air outside would be more chilled than the warmed wheelhouse. Cassana stroked the fur collar of her cloak's hood gently. It was one of her many new ones, made for her in the Capitol and on the road so that she would have a Northern wardrobe ready for her years here.

Corrina, her head lady-in-waiting, came forward to fasten the cloak securely around Cassana, smiling encouragingly at her.

"It will be okay, I'm sure we'll get used to it."

Cassana smiled tightly in response, but gave no verbal reply. Corrina had been her friend since childhood, and had been her first lady-in-waiting. They had grown up together, and Cassana trusted her more than she did anyone outside of her family. But all the same, she didn't trust her words in that moment.

The wheelhouse door was opened, and her mother was the first one to descend the steps to the hard ground of the Winterfell courtyard. Cassana followed, keeping her head high, her eyes forward, looking everything inch the princess as she took her place next to her mother.

She had told Myrcella not to gawk, and she followed her own advice, but had to confess to a small temptation to look around more than a simple cursory glance. The entire Stark family and their household was knelt before her father. Cassana counted the children off in age order, but found that she'd forgotten the name of the smallest child, the one standing next to Lady Stark. Was it… Rick…Rickard? No, that had been their grandfather. Gods, she'd simply have to avoid addressing them by name now, so that they didn't notice.

Cassana watched her father dismount, cringing slightly with embarrassment as he did so. Why did he have to be so fat? He was the King! Would it kill him to look the part a little more? He already didn't act dignified, stately, or in any way befitting someone of his status, but he could at least have looked the part. Dimly, she remembered what he had looked like in her childhood. He had been putting on weight even then, but he hadn't had nearly as much as he did now. He had still faintly resembled the handsome man people spoke of as the hero for rebelling against the Targaryens.

Still, looks aside, he was the King of Westeros. He stopped in front of his old friend, and every so slightly gestured for him to rise. The rest of the family and household followed their Lord as he responded to his King's unspoken command, and Cassana got her first look at Robb Stark, her future husband.

He was handsome, very handsome, she realised with a start. His light brown hair was cut into a close crop of curls, and he had been freshly clean-shaven for the occasion. In the back of her mind, Cassana thought that a beard might better suit his face, make him look more manly and serious. Even at the distance she could see that his eyes were a bright shade of blue. It was when she noticed this that she noticed he was looking directly at her.

Well, that was fair she supposed, she had been staring at him, and it was the first time they had seen each other. Still, did he have to make such a show of obviously looking at her? At least she had had the decency to subtly assess him while not blatantly staring. She began to find it unnerving, but refused to be the first one to drop her gaze. She tilted her chin a little and told herself that the flush in her cheeks was only from the chill air, and had no effect whatsoever on her royal dignity.

"You got fat," her father accused his old friend after giving him a once over.

Cassana thoughts that was a fairly hypocritical remark for her father to make, and flicked her gaze to his own distended belly. Lord Stark too, gave the King's royal stomach a pointed glance, which caused the two men to stare each other off for a few moments. Cassana hoped that her father's temper would arise, they would argue, and they could leave the North without either naming Lord Stark the new Hand, or her marrying Robb.

But no, the two men began to chuckle, and embraced each other warmly, like the old friends that they were.

"Nine years, why haven't I seen you?" her father demanded; holding Lord Stark at arm's length and appraising him.

"I've been guarding the North for you, your grace," Lord Stark replied with a smile.

Her father scoffed slightly, but stepped back to release his friend, and embrace Lady Stark with a familiar call of "Cat!" and giving her a hug as well. He ruffled up the hair of the youngest Stark child, whose name still eluded Cassana's mind, before moving down the line.

"You must be Robb," her father clapped the eldest Stark boy on the shoulder, and held out his other arm to gesture at Cassana, "The lucky man engaged to my daughter."

Robb smiled and nodded, "Yes, your grace."

"Cassana!" her father shouted jovially, "Come over here girl, come meet your future husband."

Cassana shot her mother a look for confirmation. Protocol demanded that the King be introduced first, then the Queen, then the Crown Prince, and then the rest of the siblings; clearly her father had no trouble in doing away with those little traditions however. Her mother gave a slight inclination of her head, and gestured slightly for Cassana to step forwards.

She shook her hair back from her face, and followed her father's request on the approval of her mother. Stepping out of line with her siblings, she crossed the short distance to the Stark family. But, if her father wouldn't follow protocol, she would. She first stopped in front of Lord and Lady Stark. Lord Stark took her hand and raised it to his lips in greeting, while his wife curtsied beside him.

"Princess," they both greeted.

They smiled politely as they did so, but did Cassana see further calculation behind Lady Stark's eyes? Or had she just imagined it? Was Catelyn Stark sizing up her husband's future wife? No, she must have imagined it. Cassana was a princess, she was royal blood, any House was lucky to receive her as a daughter-in-law. Well, they should be at any rate.

Cassana steeled herself, and moved towards Robb Stark. Her father put an arm around her shoulders, an intimate gesture that she was no longer accustomed to receiving from him, and it made her a little uncomfortable. She stiffened under his hand, but if he noticed, he made no sign of it.

"Here she is, my beautiful daughter," Robert announced loudly.

Cassana winced inside, but kept her expression calm. She wasn't used to this kind of behaviour from her father, he barely noticed her at all, and his sudden overly affectionate displays were unsettling to her. She preferred the cordial relationship that they had shared for many years. She was used to that, it was her comfort zone.

"She is indeed beautiful," Robb agreed.

"Lord Robb," she greeted formally, "So good to meet you at last."

"Princess Cassana," he took her hand and raised it to his lips.

Cassana was used to this greeting from men, it was either this or a bow. Unlike most men however, Robb did not lower his gaze, but rather kept his eyes locked on Cassana's. The smile he wore throughout the whole act mingled charm with a hint of rakishness, and he held on to her hand for just a little longer than would have been appropriate, had he not been her intended.

Thankfully, her mother stepped forwards to present herself to the Starks, giving Cassana the chance to pull herself a few steps back from Robb, and re-join her siblings standing in line.

"He's so handsome," Myrcella whispered softly to her big sister.

"Shh, Myrcella," Cassana whisper-hissed back, worried that if they could hear the younger Stark girl whispering to her sister about Uncle Tyrion, that Robb would hear her little sister gossip-praising him. She stole one glance back in Robb's direction, to see if he had heard. If he had, he gave no sign, he only continued to gaze at her. That was getting unsettling now. Cassana fixed her eyes forwards, and kept her royal dignity silent.

"Ned, take me to your crypts," her father suddenly commanded gruffly, "I want to pay my respects."

"We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait," Cersei's voice was icier than the Northern air.

But Robert only turned and began to walk away, "Now."

Ahh, of course. Lyanna Stark. The long dead woman had been the first and largest thorn in her parents' marriage. No matter how many years went by, her father refused to forget his first fiancée, the woman he had started a war for. She had often heard him talk of her, often whilst drinking. Sometimes he would sadly lament her loss, or he would grow angry, and curse that she had been 'taken' from him, curse that he was married to Cersei and not her.

Cassana hated him for having these raves, especially when her mother was in the room. Couldn't he see that he had a beautiful wife who was a good Queen? But no, to him, Cersei had never been good enough to live up to the pristine image of Lyanna Stark. Cassana hated the woman, even though she had died before Cassana's own birth, she hated her for what she had done to her family. Because of Lyanna, her father had never loved his wife, he had never connected with his children, he had never been able to move on from the past.

Still, Cassana supposed she had one thing to thank Lyanna for. Without her, Robert would never have fought his rebellion against the Targaryens. He would never have dethroned the dragons, and taken the Iron Throne for himself. And if he hadn't done that, then Cassana wouldn't have been a princess.

"Where's the Imp?" the insistent whisper sounded loudly through the courtyard.

"Would you please, shut up," Sansa Stark at least looked embarrassed by her sister's inappropriate, and not all that quite, whisper. She held herself high, Cassana noted, and kept a calm expression on her face, except when telling her sister off. Perhaps class in the North wasn't entirely non-existent after all.

From the corner of her eye, she saw her mother whispering softly to her Uncle Jaimie about something. When he remounted his horse and rode back the way they had come, Cassana guessed that he had been sent to search for her letch of an Uncle Tyrion. She wrinkled her nose unconsciously, he was no doubt getting drunk in a brothel somewhere, sullying the family name.

"You must be tired after your long journey," Lady Stark spoke into the awkward silence that had followed the abrupt departure of the King and Lord Stark, "Come, rooms have been prepared, and I am sure that you will all want to rest yourselves before the feast at sundown."

At her words, the formality in the courtyard seemed to dissipate a little. People began to move around from both sides, helping to carry baggage, making their way towards the castle, greetings between the less nobles. Cassana felt herself relax now that the initial greetings were over. She could just relax alone in her room until more forced socialising at the feast.

"Princess?" Robb stepped up to her, and gave her a bow that caused Myrcella to break into giggles.

"Yes?" she inquired, retreating behind her royalty so as not to seem as nervous as she was.

"I was thinking, since it has been so long since we wrote to one another, perhaps we should begin to get reacquainted. Would you let me show you the castle? Chaperoned, of course," he added hastily.

"Thank you for your kind offer, Lord Robb, but all of the ladies in my retinue are tired from the long journey, as am I. Perhaps tomorrow, you can show me your home," Cassana replied with diplomatic smoothness.

"I'm not tired!" Myrcella piped up.

This earned her a charming grin from the heir to Winterfell, which made the little girl all but bounce and blush on the spot. Cassana found herself less charmed by her little sister's comment. Why couldn't Myrcella pick up on the fact that Cassana really wasn't ready to get close to Robb yet? Of course she would, it was inevitable considering their impending marriage, but couldn't Myrcella give Cassana one more day of freedom before she had to pretend to enjoy his company every day for the rest of her life?

"Sadly, I am. And you know that you will need to rest this afternoon if you want to be able to stay a little later at the feast tonight." She had been addressing the both of them, but gave her little sibling a pointed look with her last sentence. Myrcella pouted, but conceded to Cassana's wishes with a small nod.

"Tomorrow it will be then." Robb gave no indication that her desire to delay was of any upset to him, as he bowed to her and her family, before turning and striding back over to his friends.

Cassana watched him go with an assessing eye. His stride was confident, the way he carried himself manly and sure, yet he managed to still retain that air of boyish charm when he spoke to her. He had been perfectly polite towards her, had made no inappropriate comments or suggestions. All in all, he was surprisingly living up to his reputation as a charmer, but a respectful one, not a letch like her father.

His friends laughed as Robb arrived in their midst once more. Several of them swarmed him, giving him claps on the back, and bringing hi close to whisper advice or questions in his ear. Some tried to shoot unseen looks in Cassana's direction, their attempts at subtlety failing miserably. One pointed her out to Robb again, making him turn to face in her direction with a smile.

Cassana hated being forced to drop her gaze by people below her, but she was made very uncomfortable by the attention of Robb and his group. Thankfully, she was saved by the excuse of turning to the servant who approached her mother in order to show the royal family to their rooms. And, since the way into the keep lead away from Robb, she did not turn back to look at him again.


	5. Gossip and Trinkets

**AN: Thank you all for your lovely support! Your reviews, favourites, and alerts are all wonderful! **

Chapter 5: Gossip and Trinkets

"All I am saying is that he really _is_ handsome, and does seem to be genuinely kind! Maybe it won't be as bad as you'd thought."

"I'm not going to be too quick to admit that. After all, I've only spoken to him once, and for all of two minutes. I'm hardly going to suddenly turn around my opinion just based on that."

"Ahh yes, this opinion that you formed _before_ you met him, the one based on rumours?"

Cassana propped herself up on her elbows to glare at her friend, "Yes, that one."

"Mmmhmm," Corrina smiled softly to herself as she went about ordering Cassana's vanity table.

"I don't know why you insisted on doing that," Cassana fell back onto her mound of pillows, "My maids could have taken care of it."

Her friend waved her comment away, "Please, they have already stored away all of your gowns and other things, but do you remember the last time a lady's maid took care of your vanity? You were so sure that she had stolen your favourite scent that you ordered her flogged. If Myrcella hadn't found it under the table, where _you_ had dropped it, the girl would have-"

"Yes, yes, alright," Cassana grumbled, rubbing her arms in a vain attempt to warm them some more, "Send for someone to build up my fire some more, will you?"

Corrina, as always, heard the command behind the request. Dropping a little curtsy to her royal friend, she ducked out of the room to do as instructed, leaving Cassana alone with her thoughts. They felt like so many thoughts, but as soon as she started sorting through them, she saw that she was simply making them out to be bigger than they were. She hated admitted that she was making a big deal out of nothing, and so she simply tried to avoid thinking about them, Sadly, this never worked, which was why Cassana's bad mood had held throughout the afternoon.

She had arrived in her room, ordered her maids to unpacking, and promptly flounced onto her bed. That had been alright, that had been standard for her when she travelled. Her bad mood had begun after, when one of her maids had come up to her and hesitantly asked:

"Your majesty, would you like us to unpack all of your garments? Or just a few and leave the rest for when you move rooms?"

Looking back on it now, Cassana felt a little bad for having snapped at her maid so, but only a little. She had angrily ordered that of course they were to unpack all of her clothes, and had demanded to know how she dared to presume otherwise. The maid had stammered out more apologies than Cassana had bothered to count, and her wardrobe had been filled in half the time it normally took.

By the time Corrina had arrived, Cassana still hadn't moved from her bed, but the mood in the room was palpable. Silence had stretched between the two friends, right up until Corrina's comments began on Robb Stark.

She was right, Cassana was going to do her uttermost not to be overly obstinate and reject statements of seemingly true fact. But she wasn't about to go all weak at the knees for a man she had just met simply because he had a handsome face. According to her mother, King Robert had been a handsome man once, now look at him. Swollen with wine, food, and whores. Cassana wasn't denying that Robb seemed… nice, she was simply basing her facts on past experiences, which was the sensible and logical thing to do.

An excited series of raps sounded at her door. That sound had used to surprise Cassana, but now she was accustomed to what it heralded. She pulled herself up into a sitting position against her pillows, and rearranged the fur blanket she had spread over her legs until she was comfortable.

"Come," she called.

Her two other lady's maids, Illya Swyft and Mabelle Swann, tumbled into her room. They were two years younger than she and Corrina, but Cassana enjoyed their company nonetheless. They had been faithful lady's maids in the years that they had been by Cassana's side. They were not confidants, for that was Corrina's job. They were her informants.

Cassana had sent them to ask questions and listen as soon as they had arrived. They'd been at it for a couple of hours now, and she was eager to hear what they had to say. She didn't bother waiting for Corrina, a Princess didn't wait on others. Besides, her friend already had her mind made on Robb, or at least influenced.

"Well, what have you found?"

Cassana didn't gesture for the girls to sit, she'd see how good their information was first, and in any case, they were bouncing up and down with such excitement that she doubted they would have taken her offer if it had been given.

"Well, _I_ went and spoke with some of the servants, like you asked," Mabelle bragged; tossing her brown hair over one shoulder in a failed attempt to look imperious, "And according to them, Lord Robb is a very good man. They say that when he was little he ran mischief around the castle, but that his father has raised him to be a good lord. They say that he's polite, he doesn't have a temper, he-"

"Does he drink? Does he whore? Does he have any natural children?" Cassana interjected; inquiring after the things she feared he indulged in.

"Well-"

"_I_ managed to speak with someone who knows a lot more than the servants," Illya boasted.

Mabelle rolled her eyes, and Cassana suppressed a sigh at their stupid competitiveness. She didn't understand why they tried, they'd never be head lady-in-waiting, they were both of equal rank, why couldn't they just stop being annoying?

"Yes, who?" she asked; making no attempts to keep her loss of patience from her tone.

"His half-brother, Lord Stark's natural son," Illya replied smugly.

"And what did he tell you?" Cassana pressed.

"Well… a lot of the same stuff Mabelle found out..." Illya admitted. She was trying to look downcast, but her bright eyes held a glint of further knowledge, she just wanted to draw out her moment of power.

"If it was all just the same knowledge, I might as well let Mabelle continue," Cassana snapped out.

"But," Illya said quickly, "He also told me that Robb does enjoy going out drinking with Theon Greyjoy, and that 'the girls like him'. But, he said that Robb is 'a good man'."

Mabelle rolled her eyes, "He probably just said that because he knew you were spying for the Princess."

"And why would he know that?" Cassana inquired icily, "I am sure I told you both to be discreet."

"He didn't," Illya shot Mabelle a glare.

"I bet he did!"

"He-"

"Stop!" Cassana shouted.

The two younger girls ceased their bickering, and turned to face her once again, both of them with dropped gazes. Cassana rubbed at her temples, trying to dispel the headache starting to form. Her head was starting to hurt from the harshly pinned hairstyle she had adopted that morning, and their arguing was speeding it along.

"Both of you, leave me now," she commanded, "Mabelle, find Corrina and tell her to come and attend me, she can bring her maids and ready herself for the feast here. Illya, tell my handmaidens to come back to me, and tell them also that I wish to have a hot bath."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

The two girls curtsied, looked a little sullen at not being allowed to stay, but did as they were bid. Cassana sank back onto her pillows with a heavy sigh, letting herself lie there for a few moments.

She disliked to admit how comfortable her accommodations were, for truth be told, she had been expecting something far more bare than the suite she had been given. Her bed, wardrobe, chests, and vanity were all not the standard she was used to, but higher than she had expected all the same.

She wondered what her new rooms after these would look like…

The thought spurred her headache on, and she sat up with a loud noise of exasperation that no one was there to witness. Grumbling to herself about the lateness of her handmaidens, she set to undoing her hair on her own, freeing the long golden strands to fall about her shoulders.

Ahh, yes, that eased the tension somewhat. Cassana eased back into a lying position, and rested her tired eyes as she waited for her bath.

**/*0*/**

"Why, you look just like Her Royal Highness, the Queen!"

Cassana couldn't help but smile at the compliment. She loved it when people told her she looked like her mother, for her mother was without a doubt one of the most beautiful women in the Seven Kingdoms, it heightened Cassana's own confidence to have their looks matched.

She sat in front of the mirror at her table watching the progress as two of her maids, Reni and Olena, dressed her hair. It was being rolled into an arch over her head, to frame her face, with two twists of it falling on either side of her. It was the latest fashion in the South, and the series of gold and emerald pins her handmaidens added gave the illusion of a crown in her hair, as well as bringing out the green of her eyes.

"Have you decided on a dress?" Corrina inquired.

She was seated on the bed behind Cassana, having her own hair tended to by Cassana's final handmaid, Jeyne. The long brown curls were being dressed into the same style as Cassana's own, but House Brax by no means equalled the royal family in funds, and so her hair was not adorned in jewels as Cassana's was.

She could always have given Corrina some of her own, for she had plenty. However, she was privately pleased at the situation, for she sometimes felt that with her long dark hair, her big brown eyes, her perfectly pale complexion, Corrina was prettier than she. And it wouldn't do to be outshone by her lady-in-waiting.

Corrina herself was already gowned in a dress of deep blue and silver, the long sleeves of the gown falling halfway to the floor, a chain of silver around her slim neck. Cassana knew that most of the ladies would be dressed in long-sleeved gowns to accommodate the chill North, which was precisely why she had opted not to. It wouldn't do to be indecent, not at all, but as Princess she had to stand out from the rest. It was simply her duty.

"Yes," she replied, gesturing towards her open wardrobe, "The gold and green mother had made for me when I turned sixteen."

Her handmaidens didn't dare object to her choice, but she saw a slight tightening of the mouth as Reni put the final touches on her hair. She and Olena stepped back from the now finished Princess, but made no move to collect the dress she had just described.

Corrina had no such reservations on speaking her mind to her friend, within reason, but she felt that this merited a frown and comment.

"Are you certain? You'll freeze in that!"

Cassana shrugged her slim shoulders as she stood up, "The Great Hall will be warm, and I have absolutely no intention of going outside in this freezing country. Besides," she added coolly, "It is my decision. I do not like have my choices questioned like this."

She fixed Corrina with a stare, and the other girl opened her mouth as if to protest once more, but simply shook her head. She of all people knew that it was generally best to just let Cassana have her way. When she had been little, tantrums had succeeded in getting her this, but she had learnt better ways to use her position of power since then.

Sensing that there would be no changing the Princess' mind, Jeyne moved to fetch the gown from the wardrobe, while Reni and Olena stepped with Cassana behind her screen to help her dress. Even with the fire having been build up stronger, Cassana still felt a slight chill sweep over her when she let her maids remove her robe and leave her in only her shift for a few moments. The dress they helped her into warmed her some as they did up the laces and fitted the golden belt, but her arms were still largely bared to the elements.

A knock sounded at her door just as Olena was fixing an emerald pendant on a golden chain around her throat. Cassana frowned, she wasn't expecting anyone.

A messenger boy stood there when Jeyne opened the door, a Northern boy, judging from his attire. Cassana wrinkled her nose as his rather hideous outfit, and turned her head away from him and took a seat on the window ledge at the other side of the room, indicating that her maids should question what his purpose was.

"What is your business with the Princess?" Jeyne inquired; not stepping aside from the doorway to let him further into the room.

He bowed very low in Cassana's direction, and held out a wrapped item, "I come bringing a gift for the Princess Cassana."

Cassana's interest piqued, she always found gifts flattering. She turned and made a small gesture to Corrina. Her friend got up and received the present on her behalf, bringing it over to Cassana. She could feel that it was a small box, wrapped in a layer of fine cloth, bound with a ribbon of… yes, silk.

"Wait," she called; seeing that the boy was about to depart, "You will stand until I tell you to go."

He bowed again, but began fidgeting on the spot at once. She rolled her eyes with a sigh, really, was this how servants were trained in the North?

With a quick tug she had the ribbon off and the cloth pulled away. The box was finely carved out of a dark wood, and upon opening it she found the inside to be lined in deep blue velvet, almost black in colour. Nestled at the centre was a finely wrought gift indeed. A bracelet smithed from silver, polished so that it shone brightly in the firelight of the room. Her eyes got lost trying to follow the pattern of entwining lines which made up the design, this was fine craftsmanship, she hadn't known the North capable of such delicacy.

With a sigh she set it back into the box, closed the lid, and passed it back to Corrina.

"Tell me who sent this," she commanded the messenger boy.

"Uh…" he shifted on his feet, "I can't, your grace."

She arched one golden eyebrow coolly, her eyes turning to green ice "Can't? I am your Princess, and I just gave you an order."

He looked utterly torn, but his lips were pressed in a firm line. He dared not speak out loud disobedience of her order, so he simply did not speak at all. She gave an irate sigh, and gestured for Corrina to hand it back to him.

"Your grace?" he sounded panicked, and puzzled.

"I cannot accept gifts from strangers in the very castle of my betrothed," she said sharply, "Leave now, and return it."

"B-but, your grace, I-"

"Now," she ordered.

Her maids all but pushed him out of the way of the door, before firmly closing it in his face. They waited a few seconds to see if he would knock again, no sound came.

"Shame," Corrina said, "That was quite pretty."

"Yes, it was rather," Cassana agreed, "But you know that silver doesn't match any of my clothes."

**/*0*/**

On the other side of the castle, the same messenger boy knocked on the door of Robb Stark, and sheepishly handed him back the unwrapped box.

"Said she couldn't take it, Lord Robb," the boy said, "Said that it was cause she was betrothed and couldn't take no gifts."

Robb looked down at the box in his hands, and began chuckling to himself.

The boy looked crestfallen at his failure, "Lord Robb? I'm sorry."

Robb, still chuckling, waved the boy on and retreated back into his room. He opened the box and lifted out the bracelet, running his hands over it, erasing the fingerprint marks left by Cassana with his own. His chuckles grew louder, and soon he was laughing loud enough for others nearby to hear, and wonder what the hell was going on.


	6. Cold Halls

**A/N: Thank you for your continued support for this fic!  
And thank you to Cardinala for pointing out the proper forms of address, I'll rectify it for future chapters! **

Chapter 6: Cold Halls

Cassana walked calmly down the long halls of Winterfell with her head held high as she made her way to the Great Hall with her mother and siblings. Cersei too walked with a quiet dignity, the small crown of gold glittering in the torchlight. Even Joffrey had his air of royal decorum in place, complete with his perpetual smirk. The youngest royals however couldn't match up to the dignity of their elders.

Myrcella was practically walking on her toes with the way she continued to bounce up and down as she walked down the hall beside Cassana. She more she did this, the more her hair slowly became wilder and wilder. Cassana was grateful that Myrcella kept it done simply, as a young girl should, for it would have been a mess by now if it had been dressed as Cassana's.

Tommen managed to contain himself from the outward show his elder sister put on, but he was quivering with excitement at the prospect of the feast. Tommen loved feasts. He loved the loud voices, the songs, the dances, the chance to try and sneak wine from his mother's cup. He had yet to encounter many kittens in the castle though, which had upset him a little.

Cassana suspected that any cats would likely be in hiding from the Starks recently acquired direwolves. She had heard rumour of them from her handmaidens that afternoon, but hadn't seen any of the beasts yet. She was sure that the tales concerning size were greatly exaggerated. These 'direwolves' would as like as not be just ordinary wolf hounds.

She waited until Joffrey was striding a safe distance ahead of the rest of them, before she approached her mother to whisper softly.

"What does Joffrey look so happy about?"

She wanted to say smug, but knew that it would inspire a bad reaction from her mother to hear that word applied to her golden boy. But it would seem that whatever made Joffrey happy did not please their mother to the same degree, for a frown momentarily creased her smooth brow.

"Your father has offered marriage between him and Sansa Stark, as a sweetener to try and make Lord Stark become his Hand."

If Cassana had been eating or drinking, she would have choked. As it was, she only coughed a little, and her eyes widened in surprise.

"I thought that was the whole point of my marriage," she said.

"Yes, well it would seem that your father is willing to bind us even more to the Starks."

Cassana fell silent, she surprised herself by being rather put out at the news. Not only because it was something that gave her brother potential enjoyment, but because she felt undermined somehow. She had thought that her marrying Robb was going to be the thing that tied the Starks to the royal family, but now it seemed that she wasn't even needed to do that. She had become an extra when she wanted to be the only one. She hadn't looked forward to it, but now that it was no longer a special responsibility of uniting the families, she felt incredibly put out.

"Ahh, here is my family at last!"

Cassana's darkening mood blackened at her father's bellowed greeting. He was almost never earlier than them to any event, but whenever he was he crowed about it as if he were the one perpetually waiting for them. Because, of course, a King was never late to anything.

He stood with the waiting Stark family, who were all assembled, but more simply attired than she would have expected. Sansa and Lady Stark had at least donned new gowns, but as far as Cassana's eye could tell, the others hadn't bothered to change at all. If she were prone to it, she might have felt overdressed. But seeing as she wasn't, she merely looked down on those who didn't match up to her.

"You know what it's like waiting for women," Joffrey replied in a jovial tone, but Cassana felt the harsh bite of his words.

"Waiting for us? Why, Joff, would that have been during the time you were lost trying to find us?" she inquired sweetly.

That earned her a vicious glare from her little brother, but laughs from almost everyone else save the adults, though even her father chuckled at his son's expense.

"Come, I've a mind to get this feast started!" King Robert exclaimed, before offering his arm to Lady Stark. "Cat, may I have the pleasure?"

"Of course, Your Grace," she replied.

That was the cue for the remainder of the families to partner up behind the King and Lady Stark. Her mother took Lord Stark's arm carefully, keeping a polite distance between them. Joffrey, as Crown Prince, fell in behind his mother with Sansa Stark on his arm. And then followed Robb, who took up a spot behind Joffrey and held his arm out to Cassana.

"Princess," he bowed his head formally, "Might I have the honour?"

Cassana didn't reply, she didn't want to simply imitate the similar exchanges which had just passed between the other couples. She looped her arm through his proffered one, and rested her hand gently upon it, feeling the muscle tense up beneath the fabric of his shirt as he straightened his posture to emulate his father.

"You look beautiful," he said softly to her while they waited for the remainder of the younger siblings to partner up. Only young Rickon, she'd found out his name earlier, was left alone.

Cassana smiled at the compliment, as she had been trained to do, and looked slightly up at him.

"Thank you. You look quite handsome." The last part slipped out before she thought properly about it. It was the sort of reply she gave to most people who complimented her, for it was graceful of her to show proper gratitude. But giving it to Robb, her intended, somehow made her feel awkward about it. Which it shouldn't do, should it? She was confused.

"I'm glad my future wife thinks so," he replied, his smile splitting into a grin.

She had no time to summon a reply, because the doors had been opened and they began their procession into the Great Hall. Cheers of welcome rose up for the King and Lord Stark. Cassana kept a polite smile on her face, but her eyes forwards. Robb's comment had unsettled any awkwardness that had momentarily come over her in a girlish fit of stupidity. It was the first time that either of them had openly stated their connection to the other.

It made her feel curiously… odd. She was so used to being the Princess, being her parents' daughter, being her siblings' sister, and now she was someone's future wife as well. It felt strange to consider herself in that way, she wondered if she was up to the responsibility for a moment, before remembering that it didn't matter.

She needed to dismiss these silly feelings of curiosity and oddness. The facts were the facts. She would be married to Robb, she would be his wife, he would be her husband. That was it, that was final. Final.

Cassana looked around the hall of the castle that was to be her home. From now on, this would be it. No more magnificent throne room, no more sunlit gardens, no more shimmering ocean views. Cold grey stone against a cold grey sky in a cold grey land.

Her annoyances from the arrangement, the travel, and the whole afternoon were getting to her again. She needed wine.

**/*0*/**

The enjoyment of wine was something she liked to feel she had inherited from her mother. For while her father enjoyed the beverage, he drank it in such amounts as to be unseemly. Her mother on the other hand, knew how to enjoy her wine with elegance, something that Cassana often tried to mimic.

Her parents were supposed to be seated in the place of honour at the head of the table, but only her mother sat there now, Lady Stark seated to her left. Cassana's father had long since descended, abandoning what little royal dignity he had, and was currently making a spectacle of himself. He was drunk, and had his arms around a buxom serving woman down in the lower reaches of the Hall. Sadly, this was a sight that Cassana was used to.

As a member of the royal family, Cassana too enjoyed a place at the high table. This sadly meant a great deal of boredom, for she was seated at the end of her father's side, and her sole neighbour was Joffrey. Still, should would not have traded her position for a lower table. Granted, perhaps she would have more conversation seated with her ladies, but she wouldn't be afforded the same feeling of grandeur that the high table brought with it. From this vantage point she could safely remain aloof from the clamouring events down below.

"Gods this is a boring feast," Joffrey complained from her left, "They don't have any entertainment, the wine is poor, and is it always this smoky in this stupid place?"

"If you want entertainment, just watch father," she muttered.

She hadn't intended for Joffrey to hear, but his mocking laughter indicated that he had. She hated it when he laughed at her comments in that way, it generally meant that he agreed with them, and she hated having things in common with him. Truth be told, she had more in common than she'd like already, but she didn't want to extend that further than she had to.

"What do you think of her?"

"Hmm?" Cassana saved herself a few moments by taking another drink from her cup, it would need refilling soon.

"Lady Sansa, my betrothed," he clarified, "I want to know my dear sister's opinion. You've been betrothed to a Stark for longer than I, perhaps you can give me some pointers."

"Shut up," she shot back.

He smirked, he knew she hated it when he talked about her engagement, he'd been playing on that fact for years. Well ha, he would soon have nothing left to taunt her with.

She studied Sansa Stark closely. The bright red of her hair was certainly noticeable amidst the general darker colours of the people who shared her table, and she sat with the uttermost poise, even when she bent to have a whispered conversation with the girl on her right. Cassana could tell that she was trying very hard to put out the very best of airs, and grudgingly admitted that she was successful. Cassana could tell that Lady Stark was a woman of dignity, hopefully Sansa had picked up the finer points of it, despite being raised so far from any true civilisation.

Cassana felt her nose wrinkle up as she remembered the outburst from moments ago. The younger Stark girl had been throwing food, which really made her wonder just how these people were raised, they were one of the oldest Houses in Westeros! Still, Sansa had been rather shrill with her reactions, Cassana wondered mildly if perhaps she should have been sent off to bed along with her younger sister. Still she had recovered well it seemed.

"She's pretty," she replied to Joffrey's earlier conversation attempt. "She acts like a proper Lady should, how old is she again?"

"Thirteen," he replied.

"Young," she noted. "When does father intend for you to wed?"

"He hasn't said."

Joffrey let his gaze linger on Sansa, and Cassana watched as the younger girl dared a glance up towards him, only to promptly lower her gaze and blush when she saw him looking at her.

"She likes you," Cassana groaned.

Joffrey chuckled happily to himself. "I know, not everyone takes as ill towards me as you do, sister."

"Not everyone knows you as I do," she murmured. This time she was soft enough that he didn't hear.

"A toast!"

Cassana looked towards the back of the room, as her father's enormous bellow resounded through the Great Hall, earning silence from all gathered. She winced, seeing that he had managed to grab Robb Stark by the shoulder as he returned from escorting his little sister to her rooms. The two of them now walked towards the high table, and Cassana gathered herself together, restoring her posture and cool gaze to a suitable standard.

A servant refilled all of the cups along the high table, and passed full new ones to Robb and the King when they reached it.

"Cassana! Come, stand with me!" he called.

Joffrey smirked happily at her expense, being called up to a toast by their drunken father almost never ended well. He settled comfortable back into his chair, wine cup held loosely in one hand, and waited to see what would unfold.

Cassana rose smoothly from her chair, gathered up her wine, and moved in front of the table to stand beside her father. This close to him, the pungent smell of wine was almost overpowering. Cassana was embarrassed. On his other side stood her betrothed, granted a betrothed she wasn't all together happy with, but her intended nonetheless. And he could clearly smell that her father resembled a poor ale house right now.

"Soon, at last, the Houses of Stark and Baratheon shall be joined!" he shouted. "Young Robb Stark here is the lucky man who gets to marry the Princess Cassana, my daughter!"

A cheer rose up from the crowd, along with their wine cups, but her father waved them down.

"This day has long been coming, and I am glad to see it finally here." He turned to face Lord Stark at the table." Ned, you and I both wanted this sooner, when I was engaged to your sister. It is happening now, at last! But it should have happened then!"

A cold look descended on the Queen's face, and Cassana felt a mirror or it on her own. Only she also felt her cheeks flush red with anger and embarrassment on her mother's behalf. Why did her father always have to do this? Why couldn't he let go of that stupid dead woman? She was the reason that Cassana so disliked her association with the Stark family. If not for that woman, perhaps her father would have been a better man.

"Lyanna… now there was a fine woman," Robert went on, "She-"

"Father," Cassana interrupted, "I believe you said this was a toast about the union. Forget the past."

Her father looked at her and gave an empty laugh, "So like your mother! It is always about you, isn't it, darling girl? The two of you have never forgiven me for loving Lyanna! You both-"

"Father," she snapped in a whisper, hoping in vain it would make him lower his voice, "You are making a scene!"

"Making a scene?" he repeated at loud volume, "I am the King! Everything I do is making a scene that should be worthy of a tapestry!"

"Stop it," she hissed.

"Robert," Cersei admonished at the same time, "Enough."

He fixed them both with a bloodshot stare, something hard flitting across his expression. Cassana hated him like this, her father had never been violent to his family, but at moments like this she almost feared that he would.

"Very well, women in my life, have it your way," he grumbled, before turning back to the crowds, "Raise your cups! This boy is marrying my daughter, and he'll need all the luck the Gods can give him!"

People laughed at the perceived joke, and Cassana heard Joffrey's laugh above them all. She was outraged. How _dare_ her father, her own father, mock her in public like this! She was to live here, among these people, and he had just all but insulted her in front of them all. She hated him, in that moment right there, she hated her father with all of her heart.

With great deliberation, she placed her wine cup on the table behind her, refusing to drink to his insulting toast. She turned and dropped a curtsey to the people seated at the high table.

"If you will all excuse me, I am tired from the day's journey, I bid you all goodnight. Thank you, Lord Stark and Lady Stark for the feast."

She refused to give either her father or Robb eye contact as she turned once more and made her way to the door at the end of the room. She refused her father because of the anger she felt towards him, but she refused to look at Robb because she didn't want to see whatever look on his face remained from what her father had said.

She strode through the doors when they were opened for her, and didn't look back as she made her way down the halls back to her room. The cold bit into her exposed skin, but it didn't sting nearly as much as the things her father had said. Why couldn't he be better? Why did he have to do these things?

Cassana looked around the halls of the castle that once Lyanna Stark had occupied.

"Why can't you leave him be?" she asked of the cold stone, "Why can't you let him go?"

No answer came, and she made her way down the rest of the hall in silence.


	7. Interlude: Letters in the Night

**A/N: Thank you all for your support! I have bad news and I have grand news!  
Bad news, I am going on holiday for a month, and probably can't update in that time.  
Grand news: my good friend and fellow author, Maddie Rose, has very kindly made me a trailer for this fic! You can find the link on my profile :) Let me know what you think of her good work! And enjoy this wee little interlude. Hope it keeps you going until the next chapter! **

Interlude: Letters in the Night

"What do you think of her?" Cat inquired.

She and Ned lay in bed together, both of them warmed by the wine consumed and each other's presence. Tonight had been a long and successful feast. If a tad bit eventful too, Ned found himself wondering what had happened to Robert's eldest girl. She young Princess had looked angry when she left the hall, but embarrassed too, though she seemed to try and hide it. He assumed that this was the 'her' Cat referred to.

"I did not get the chance to speak with her tonight," he confessed, "I should have made time, perhaps."

"Robb didn't either, she kept herself quite held back," Cat said.

Ned sensed displeasure behind his wife's comment. "Cat, what is it?"

"Well, don't you find that odd? She's travelled for a month to be married, and she spends the feast ignoring her betrothed?"

"This feast was in honour of Robert, tomorrow night's is in honour of the upcoming wedding," Ned reminded her, "Perhaps she is just nervous. Weren't you when you first met my brother?"

"Well… yes," Cat admitted grudgingly.

"I'm sure she'll settle in," he assured, "And Robb is a charming lad, Gods help him, it will be fine."

"She left so abruptly too, it's like she couldn't stand to be in there," Cat said.

"Robert did overstep the line a little, I can't say I blame the girl, much. You know women's temperaments better than I, Cat, surely it was just a mood brought on by his drunken comments."

"He has grown more free with his wine and words," Cat admitted, "And his girth."

"How did he get so fat?" Ned wondered aloud to his wife.

"He only stops eating when it's time for a drink," Cat replied, chuckling at her own joke.

A knock sounded at their door, which was very odd for that time of night. Everyone would be asleep now, for it had been a long feast, with much drinking.

"It's Maester Luwin, my Lord."

Ned was even more puzzled now, what would his Maester want to late at night?

"Send him in," he instructed.

The door opened to reveal the old man in his grey robes, the heavy Maester's chain hung around his neck as always. The man looked troubled by something.

"Pardon my Lord, my Lady," he greeted. "A rider in the night, from your sister."

Cat rose out of bed, and went over to take the note Maester Luwin held outstretched. Ned sat up further and frowned, Lysa had always been odd, to insist on this note being delivered despite the hour? And her rider arriving so late? What was happening?

"This was sent from the Eyrie," Cat noted in a worried tone as she examined the blue wax seal, before opening up the note, "What's she doing at the Eyrie…she hasn't been back there since her wedding-"

Maester Luwin closed the door as she read quickly whatever the rest of the note held quickly. The more she read, the more her eyes widened in shock. She glanced up at the Maester quickly, before striding to the fireplace to throw the note inside. Poking at the flames to make sure that they consumed every word written on that small sheet of paper.

"What news?" Ned rose from his bed in alarm at his wife's actions.

"She's fled the capital," Cat replied steadily, "She says Jon Arryn was murdered, by the Lannisters, she says the King is in danger."

Ned frowned, "She's fresh widowed, Cat, she doesn't know what she's saying."

"Lysa's head would be on a spike right now if the wrong people had found that latter," Cat said empathetically. "Do you think she would risk her life, her son's life, if she wasn't certain her husband was murdered?"

Ned turned away, considering this information. If what Cat's sister wrote was true, then Robert would indeed be in great danger. Lannisters surrounded him down in King's Landing, he was so tightly bound to that family that he'd never escape from it.

"If this is true, then the Lannisters conspire against the Throne," Maester Luwin spoke the obvious out loud, "Who but you can protect the King?"

"They murdered the last Hand, and now you want Ned to take the job?" Cat asked; aghast.

"The King rode for a month to ask Lord Stark's help," Maester Luwin pointed out. "He's the only one he trusts. You swore the King an oath, My Lord."

"He spent half his life fighting Robert's wars," Cat argued, "He owes him nothing! Your father and brother rode South once, on a King's demand."

"A different time, a different King," Maester Luwin said.

Ned stood still and silent for a few moments, thinking the whole thing out in his head.

If he took the job, he would be putting himself and therefore his family at risk. But if he didn't, then the Lannisters would almost certainly have Robert killed, and his son put on the Throne. How much could he do to stop them? Lannisters lied and cheated with almost every breath they took, would he be able to stop their plots in the very heart of their kingdom?

What he needed was more connection, more of a hold on Robert. The Lannisters had him by marriage and by pocket, but Ned already had his two eldest children. Robb would marry Robert's eldest girl, and the Princess would become a Lady of the House Stark. If he agreed to go South, then Sansa would marry the Crown Prince, and one day rule beside him as Queen. Perhaps these matches would give him equal footing with the Lannisters…

"Maester Luwin, leave us, if you would. I will speak with you more about this on the morrow."

"As you will, My Lord," the old man bowed and left the room, closing the door firmly behind himself.

"Ned, you cannot seriously be considering this!" Cat exclaimed, coming to stand in front of him.

"This changes things, Cat," he said softly.  
"Yes," she agreed, "It makes them worse! Do you think that the Lannisters would let you stop whatever plots they have? No! They would get rid of you, just like they did Jon Arryn!"

"He needs me," he said simply, "Now more than ever."

"No, Ned, listen-"

"I will take Sansa with me, seeing as she will be wed to Prince Joffrey," Ned talked over his wife, "Arya too, she could use the civilising I dare say, and Bran."

"Bran?" Cat was aghast again, "No, not Bran."

"He wants to be a knight, King's Landing will be the best place for him to do that, "Ned pointed out, "And perhaps I can arrange a match between him and Princess Myrcella."

"Another one?" Cat questioned, "Ned, what are you thinking?"

"I am thinking that we need more connections, Cat," he said, "If we have three marriages tying us to the Crown, then perhaps we will control more than the Lannisters. That way, we can stop them."

"I don't like it," Cat said adamantly, "I've never liked Robb being betrothed to the Princess, and after tonight at the feast, why you can see she's just like her mother! And Sansa being engaged to the Prince? Now you want to put Bran in that family?"

"Myrcella is a sweet girl, I'm sure that Cassana will be too."

"They are Lannisters!" she exclaimed.

"They are Baratheon, and Robert's children!" he defended, "And in a few days time, Cassana will become our daughter to."

"No," Cat shook her head, "Never. Especially not after this! Ned, how can we trust their intentions?"

"Their intentions? Cat, you can't speak as if she is a part of their intentions. The dangerous Lannisters are the Queen, her brother Jaimie, and most especially their father, even though Tywin is not in King's Landing."

"Perhaps, but she could be a part of it!" Cat argued.

"You know as well as I do that the Lannisters were against the Princess being betrothed to Robb." He pointed out, "It was Robert's idea, and mine, and I still think it a good one."

"I don't trust her, she seems so… aloof," Cat said.

"She's a Princess, she can't help how she was raised. Besides, you were a little the same when you first arrived," he reminded gently, "Give her time, Robb seems to like her already."

"I noticed," Cat muttered.

"If he's happy, then let it go, Cat," he said, pulling her into his arms. "You're simply being an overprotective mother."

"And wife," she hugged him back fiercely, "I let you distract me from the topic, I still don't want you going South!"

"Shh, love," he kissed the top of her head, "We'll talk more of it tomorrow."


	8. Walk With Me

Chapter 7: Walk With Me

"I don't know why you complained so about being betrothed, sister, it's not bad at all."

Cassana glared at her little brother with open annoyance, but otherwise refused to rise to the bait of his comment. She gestured for the servant behind her to pour her a cup of steaming tea, not the dark bitter tea the Northerners drank, but a fragrant fruit tea she had bought with her. It was something from the Summer Isles, she didn't know what, or how expensive it was, she just knew that it tasted pleasant and that was enough for her.

She and Joffrey sat alone in the small dining hall which had been allocated to the royal family. Their mother and father would doubtless not be up for hours, they both drank rather a lot at feasts. Their father to make himself all the louder, their mother in an effort to drown him out. Myrcella and Tommen were still asleep, having been up far past their normal bedtime last night, Cassana wished that her other younger siblings were up to keep her company.

That or she wished she still slumbered as they did, but she had reason to be awake at this hour. She had promised Robb that he could take her on a tour today, and she was to meet him within the half hour. She had taken some pains with her appearance, enough to show her beauty, but not so much as to look like she was blatantly trying to look good for him.

Her long blonde hair fell mostly loose down her back, she had on only simply golden chains for jewellery, and one of her new gowns designed to be worn in the cooler Northern temperatures. She fiddled absently with the chain around her neck, it was now two days till the wedding, two days she had to get to know the man she'd spend the rest of her life with. In those two days she would learn what the future years would bring, and be able to gauge how happy they would make her.

Looking around the cold stone walls, her initial guess was not that much. But, happiness was not always part of the deal with marriages. She knew this, she accepted it, but that didn't mean she was going to let it pass without showing her dislike just a little. Privately, of course. It would be a secret kept to herself. For as much as she wished she could get by without, there was power in marriage, she just had to figure out how to use it…

"Sansa seems pleased with the idea of being married, from what I hear," Joffrey went on, "In fact, don't most girls dream of their weddings? But not you, sister, you've never told me why."

"Perhaps because it doesn't concern you," she replied; reaching out to take a pastry for her plate.

"I'm curious, I command you to tell me," he said haughtily.

She bit into the pastry, happy to discover it was filled with sweet berries and still warm. She chewed it contentedly, and also took the time to sip more tea before she replied to him.

"You can't command me to do that, you're not King yet, Joffrey. And I'm still your elder sister."

"I am the Crown Prince!" he exclaimed, "You are just a Princess, even Tommen is ahead of you in line to the throne, and therefore in power!"

Cassana smiled as she drank some more tea, this had forever been a sore point for Joffrey. He felt that as Crown Prince, and their mother's favourite, he had the right of command over all of his siblings for everything. He hated being reminded that he couldn't order such trivial things of his brother and sisters.

Of course, it was a sore point for her too. When they had been small, her being elder than Joffrey had used to matter. Her little brother used to do what she said, and she had liked it that way. Then he had grown, and become aware of his position in life, and how it was above hers. They hadn't been able to stand each other since.

The worst incident had occurred when she was nine and he was six. Cassana absently reached up a hand to touch a point on her back, just below her shoulder, where a small scar served as a permanent reminder of that incident. Since that day, Cassana had hated Joffrey, and he had resented her.

"Well, when you marry Robb, you won't be a Princess anymore," he said smugly, "I can order you around then."

"Well thank the Gods that you will be many miles from me," she snapped back, "That's at least one good thing about this wretched match."

"I should invite you and your husband down to King's Landing when I am King," he smirked. "You can wait on Sansa when she is Queen."

The berries in her pastry soured in her mouth, and her appetite vanished. She hated that he had found this weakness, and the gleam in his eye told her that he knew.

She put down her small breakfast, delicately wiped her hands on a napkin, and pushed her chair back from the table. She'd had enough of her brother's company for the day. He made no comment as she turned around and walked out of the room, he knew he had won that round. She heard his chuckle echoing off the walls around her, and she slammed the heavy wooden doors behind her in an effort to silence it.

"Cassana!"

Tommen's cheerful voice called out to her as she walked back towards her rooms, he was coming down the corridor towards her, bouncing with excitement for reasons she couldn't imagine. What did he find to be so cheerful about in these dreary halls? But, that was Tommen, he'd always find something to smile for no matter where he was. It was one of the things she really loved about her youngest.

"Morning, Tommen," she patted his head as he raced up to hug her, "Did you sleep well?"

He nodded vigorously, "Where are you going? Did you have breakfast already? Are mother and Myrcella awake yet?"

"I did," she replied, "And no, only Joffrey is in there at the moment."

Tommen made a face, his older brother could be particularly cruel to Tommen. He thought that his younger sibling was too soft, and made frequent attempts to torment Tommen at any given opportunity.

"What about Uncle Jaime or Uncle Tyrion?" he asked, "Uncle Tyrion is always funny."

Now it was Cassana's turn to make a face, she didn't know what Tommen and Myrcella found so amusing about their Imp Uncle. Cassana found Tyrion to be rude, crude, thoroughly inappropriate at all times. For such a small man, he made a rather large stain on the Lannister family reputation.

"I wish you didn't encourage Uncle Tyrion to act like he does, he's a bad influence on you."

"Me? A bad influence? No, surely you must be thinking of my brother."

Cassana whirled around, and looked down, to find her Uncle Tyrion leaning casually against the wall a few paces behind her. She hadn't heard him approach, and she hated being taken by surprise like that.

"You shouldn't sneak up like that!" she accused.

"You should pay more attention to your surroundings," he retorted, "Here in the North there really are some beautiful surroundings to pay attention to. Did you know-"

"I don't have time for one of your little history lessons, Uncle."

"Know what?" Tommen piped up.

Cassana cursed the good natures of her youngest siblings which led them to be taken in by Tyrion's silly ways. No matter what Cassana or their mother said, they continued to be amused by the antics of the half-sized relative.

Tyrion grinned and put an arm around his nephew, "Come, let us have breakfast and I'll tell you."

Tommen eagerly followed Tyrion into the dining room, and Cassana found herself wishing Joffrey's ill company on the both of them. She kept on her way, not wanting to watch the two of them stroll off amiably down the halls.

**/*0*/**

"Five dragons says she doesn't show up."

"You shouldn't bet on her like that."

"What? You too scared you'd lose if you took me on?"

"No."

"Five dragons it is."

Robb Stark shook his head, he was pacing just a little nervously in the courtyard as he waited for Cassana to show up. Behind him, Theon was making a bet with Jon as to whether she actually would, Robb wasn't sure if he was offended or not. Still, at least his brother took his side.

She was a few minutes late, but that was no reason to assume she wouldn't be there. After all, it was highly unlike a Princess to stand up her own fiancée while they were supposed to be getting to know each other. At least, Robb hoped it was unlikely. Perhaps Cassana wasn't as keen to get to know him as he was to get to know her. She had certainly made no effort to seek him out at the feast last night, she hadn't even left her place except to leave the feast hall altogether.

Should he have gone up to her that night? Theon had urged him to, but he had been so unsure. She had just looked so… unapproachable. She'd barely looked at him the whole evening, spending most of the night with a cool gaze into the distance, as if nothing in the hall was worth noticing anyway. Well, maybe he was exaggerating, he hoped that he was. Gods, she almost intimidated him with that attitude.

And she had refused his gift… was that a bad sign? Then again, she hadn't known it was from him, so really it was a good sign of loyalty that she was refusing strange gifts. He really should stop being nervous, he hadn't been yesterday, he'd been quite confidant actually. He just needed to maintain that same confidence. It wasn't as if he needed to court her really, they were already engaged, but he did want to know her.

He crouched down to scratch Grey Wind between the ears. The direwolf pup was growing fast, and followed him almost everywhere, but most of the time it was Robb following him. Grey Wind loved to race on ahead all the time. Speaking of which, Grey Wind darted away from him seconds after playfully nuzzling his hand. Robb looked up to see what had caught the pup's attention, it was Cassana.

He bowed low, as did everyone else, when she entered the courtyard. Another young woman trailed behind her, and Robb realised that she had been waiting in the shadows for Cassana to show, this must be her escort.

Grey Wind had raced up to the Princess, and was playfully yipping and running in circles around her ankles. She didn't look as haughty as she had the other times he had seen her, in fact, she looked a little nervous.

"Grey Wind! Here!" Robb called out.

The pup obediently came to him, and Cassana's expression showed brief relief, before assuming the same mask she had shown during the feast. Ahh, he had learned something. He now knew that he should call it a mask, for that was all it was. It was a start.

Behind him he heard the soft clink of coins being passed from Theon to Jon, along with a muttered curse. He hoped that Cassana didn't notice, but when her gaze flickered over his shoulder for a moment, causing a slight tightening of her mouth, he knew that she had.

"Princess Cassana." He stepped forward and raised her hand to his lips. She was wearing gloves today, and as his lips caressed the soft leather for a mere second, he wished that she wasn't. "I'm glad you came."

"This is my lady-in-waiting, Lady Corrina Brax, she will be accompanying us as my chaperone," Cassana introduced.

"Lady Corrina," he gave her a bow, slightly shallower than the one he had given Cassana.

"Are you bringing chaperones too?" Cassana inquired, gesturing to Jon and Theon, who still stood behind him, trying to look absorbed in conversation as they eavesdropped.

He laughed, a surprisingly rich laugh, "No, they were just…curious."

"Curious?" she repeated, arching one eyebrow delicately.

"Of you, they've had little exposure to fine ladies such as yourself, Princess. And they're jealous that I have such a beautiful fiancée and they don't," he added with a grin.

He had hoped to make her laugh, but she only smiled at the compliment. He gave an internal sigh, he suspected this was going to be difficult.

"Princess, shall we?" he offered her his arm.

She made a small gesture to her lady, to stand several paces behind them, and took his arm. As it had been at the feast, her touch was light as a feather, he could barely feel her hand there. As a way to reassure himself that she was indeed on his arm, he rested his other hand on top of hers as they walked.

"Where are we walking to?" she inquired.

"Well, I want to show you the godswood, it's my favourite place in the castle, I hope you like it," he said, "Then I thought perhaps I could show you some of the Winter Town?"

"Not the castle itself?"

He laughed, "Trust me, you will have ample time to explore the halls of Winterfell, I thought it would be better to take advantage of the nice day to see other things."

Cassana cast a quick glance up at the clouded sky, frowning slightly. Ahh, no doubt for her this wasn't a 'nice' day, she was used to sunny Southern skies. He wished he had sunlight to bathe her in, her hair would light up in it he was sure.

"Is…is your pup coming with us?" she asked casting that wary glance down at Grey Wind, who was pattering eagerly behind at Robb's heel.

"He does like to follow me, but don't worry, he's harmless really," Robb assured.

They walked in silence for some time, Robb was unsure what to say to her. Gods but this was awkward. What did one even say to someone they hardly knew? If it were a man he could talk about fighting or horses, if it was an elder woman he knew how to converse politely about nothing, if it was a little girl he knew how to distract them with sweets and laughter, but a young woman to whom he was betrothed? That was an entirely different and far more difficult matter.

_Okay Robb_, he thought to himself, _just ask her the first thing that comes into your mind._

"Is your favourite colour still purple, Princess?" he inquired.

He mentally winced when she gave him a slightly confused look.

"Purple?"

_Unless it's a stupid question like that. Robb, you dumb idiot._

"Uh, only I just remember when we used to write to each other, that's what you mentioned your favourite colour being when I asked."

She made a sound of understanding before replying, "No, it's blue now."

They walked on in silence for a few more moments, Robb was too nervous to ask another question, fearful that it would be as embarrassing as the first one. Eventually, Cassana was the one to break the second silence.

"Why did you ask me?"

"Oh, I was just trying to make conversation," he replied, brushing a hand through his hair nervously, "I didn't want you to feel awkward in the silence, so…"  
"No, I meant in the letters, why were you always asking me questions like that?" she inquired.

"I wanted to know more about you," he stated simply. "I was curious, I wanted to ask then so I could prepare for you to come here. Things like how you enjoy berry pastries at breakfast, and whether you preferred sweet or bitter drinks, what you liked to do so I could practice, your favourite colour so I could have things made for you in it."

Cassana gave a small start of surprise when he mentioned the pastries, and Robb felt an inner glow of satisfaction that some of the old facts remained true. He had ordered the pastries added to the breakfast menu for the Baratheons, in an effort to make Cassana feel a little happier perhaps, she had seemed quite disturbed by her father's speech. He was unsure whether he would like her to make the connection and know it was him, or leave it as just something for her to enjoy.

"That's very… thoughtful," she said after a pause, "Thank you."

Robb has hoped for a reaction at least a little stronger than that. Weren't girls normally supposed to swoon into your arms if they found out how 'thoughtful' you were? Hells, perhaps he should have asked Sansa for advice and not his mother, she would be more up to date on what girls of this age would fine swoon-worthy.

Still, he did have one final trick to play on this walk.

"Princess, I have a confession to make." He reached into his cloak and pulled out the little box containing the bracelet. "I was the one who sent you this, I told the boy to keep it secret as I felt it might be a romantic mystery you might enjoy."

"That was you?" she questioned. "I apologise! If I'd known-"

Robb held up a hand to stop her, and the momentary tightening of her expression showed that she was not used to being interrupted like that. But she kept her peace and let him speak.

"In all honesty, it was almost reassuring that you did," he admitted. "Makes me feel like I can trust you. However, I promise to take credit for all gifts I send you from now on."

Cassana took the box from him carefully, surprise mixing with confusion on her face for the quickest of moments, before that cool demeanour was back in place. Ah, how Robb longed to bring that mask down permanently, not just for flashes, he hated not knowing what she was thinking. It made him question too much, and stirred a warning in him that he didn't like. He wanted to trust her, he wanted to like her, but she was making it very hard for him.

"Lord Robb… thank you."

She opened up the lid and twirled the bracelet around her hands several times. Robb watched her very closely, hoping to see a break in her expression. He was rewarded. A small smile appeared as her eyes intently followed the lines of metalwork, she liked it.

"It's beautiful," she said, while placing it back in its box and closing the lid. "But I don't have anything to wear it with, all my clothes are made for gold jewellery."

She made as if to offer it back to him, but he resisted gently, placing his hand over hers and pushing the box back towards her.

"I had it made for you, keep a hold of it, it can wait until the day you find something for silver." He smiled, "And please, call me Robb. We are to be married, are we not?"

"Very well," she said, "Thank you, Robb."

As she passed the box back to her lady-in-waiting to carry for her, Robb had a moment to notice that she had not given him the same leave to dispense with her title. He wondered whether or not that offended him, or made him feel foolish, but he decided not to let it. They were still newly met, he couldn't expect her to suddenly be comfortable around him. Gods, he still wasn't fully comfortable around her. He just had to keep on trying and hope that someday soon, she would start trying too.


	9. Threshold

Chapter 8: Threshold

**AN: If you guys are interested, my friend Maddie Rose is hosting the 'Game of Thrones Summer Awards'. You can find the link on my profile, if you would like to go and place nominations, pretty please do! **

A knock sounded on Robb's door late in the night. He was surprised, he had assumed that most people would go straight to their beds. Tonight's feast had stretched quite far into the night, and Robb had probably stayed longer than he should have, considering he had to rise early tomorrow for his wedding.

"Who is it?" he asked, yanking his shirt over his head in preparation for sleep.

"Your mother."

This surprised Robb even more, a visit from his mother at this hour, he wondered what it could be about. He hoped she wasn't going to start fussing about tomorrow's event. Robb had heard so much about his wedding that all he wanted now was to get it over with so that people would stop talking about it to him.

He went over to open the door and receive his mother, he didn't bother putting his shirt back on again. His mother had seen him in various states of undress since he had been a babe. He doubted she would mind.

"Are you alone?" she inquired, as she hurried into the room.

"Of course," he snorted lightly while shutting the door. "Why wouldn't I be at this hour?"

"I just want to be sure." Catelyn Stark seemed nervous. She hadn't changed out of her feast dress yet, but her hair had already been taken down. Robb guessed that she had probably rushed over here in the midst of preparing for bed. As for why, he was still unsure.

"What are you doing here, mother?" he asked. "Is everything alright?"

She didn't reply at once. Instead, she came over to stand before him. Looking him up and down, putting on hand on his shoulder and smoothing his hair back with the other, something she had used to do when he had been small. She now had to reach up to do it, rather than down. She studied him with a sad smile on her face for a while, before her gaze turned deadly serious.

"Robb, are you sure you want this marriage?"

A hard bark of laughter was the only reply Robb could come up with to that question, which seemed to put his mother out of sorts.

"Robb, be serious, please," she scolded. "Are you sure about this?"

"Mother, I wed tomorrow, it's a bit late for this kind of talk. It's late for any kind of talk really," he pointed out.

She stepped back from him, and started pacing the room. Three strides one way, turn, three strides the other, turn.

"Why are you asking?" he said, confused at both her behaviour and the question.

"I just…" she trailed off. "Do you like her?"

Robb was unable to answer her without first taking some time to think. Did he? He had spent some more time with Princess Cassana over the past few days, did he like her yet? They had talked some, but never deep into topics. They had spent hours together, but he had always felt as if she were holding herself a little distant.

She didn't seem as eager as he was to get to know him, nor did she seem settled or happy. It made him worry, just a little. He wondered if he could make this marriage work, or if it would end up with him spending all his years with a woman who would always hold herself back a little. He truly hoped that that would not be the case.

It was puzzling to him. She was always polite, courteous, if a little cold. She was smart, he could tell that, she always got a proud look on her face whenever she got the chance to demonstrate her intelligence. She didn't like being made fun of, or interrupted, or being proved wrong. That pride, stubbornness, and oh so thinly veiled temper made for an interesting personality to spend time with.

But yet… just a couple of times, he had seen her laugh, or smile, and in those moments he had been so sure that there was more to her than what she was showing him. It just made him curious, he wanted to make her laugh more, he wanted to see that smile. He wasn't sure why, perhaps because she was normally so controlled, he didn't know. But he _wanted_ to make her happy.

And of course, she was beautiful. So many women in the North were dark of hair and eye, and many were beautiful with those features. But Cassana… with her bright golden hair, those deep green eyes, he worried he might go blind if he saw her on a sunny day. Her features, so delicate to look at, so often held in a haughty expression, could soften into a dazzling smile.

"Robb?" his mother prompted, stopping his mind from wondering away from their conversation.

"I _want_ to like her," he replied eventually.

Her lips compressed into a flat line. That had not been the answer she had hoped for.

"What is it, mother?" he asked.

"I'm not sure that I do," she admitted. "I know that it is not my place, but I just want you to know. I don't trust her, I don't know that she will be a good wife to you."

"She's just getting used to it here, I'm sure that she will become accustomed to our ways soon," he assured. "Just give her time."

"I'm not so sure that she will, some people don't change so easily," she said.

"Mother, I think that you are just worried because your eldest child is finally getting married, and another woman will be around the castle."

"No, Robb, it's not that," his mother protested. "It's her, the Princess, do you really think she will make you happy?"

Robb shrugged, "It's too soon to say. But I am engaged to her, promised to wed her tomorrow, and that is what I will do. Just as father was promised to marry you before either of you knew it would make you happy in the end."

Cat opened her mouth to protest again, but Robb put his hands on his mother's shoulders to silence her. He looked her in the eye, and saw that she really was nervous about this issue. He sighed, mother's worry, would he ever grow too old for it? He pulled her into a hug.

"Don't worry, mother," he said softly. "I will be fine."

"Be careful," was all she replied, while she hugged him tight, as if she was afraid to let him go.

**/*0*/**

"I'm scared."

Cassana hadn't admitted that feeling since the Kingsroad, and it worried her that it was upon her this strongly again. She guessed that every bride had pre-wedding nerves, but to be scared? She should be above that, she should be confidant, but she wasn't.

She'd made a positive disaster of her engagement feast. That had been the night after her father's embarrassing speech on their first night, and her wounded pride still hadn't recovered. She'd been on edge the whole night, and despite being seated next to Robb, she had made little effort to talk to him. She hadn't wanted to, but she knew that she should have done. How else was she supposed to try make the match work?

She knew that she shouldn't be acting like this. She should have spent the past few days charming and getting to know Robb Stark, as he was doing to her. But instead, she had kept her distance, and almost pushed him away at times. That was not the way to start a marriage if she wanted to give herself some power in it.

She should have been in control of this situation, but now it was controlling her. Ruling her emotions, her actions, keeping her from logical thought. She hated it. She always did when something tampered with her intelligence. She prided herself on being adept at remaining on top of situations, yet here she was being crushed by the impending marriage. She needed to get a grip or herself.

"It's alright, my love," her mother assured while she ran a brush through Cassana's long hair, "It will be alright."

Cersei had dismissed Cassana's ladies and maids for the night, and she had attended her daughter herself. First helping Cassana out of her feast gown and into her thick night-shift, then taking down her daughter's hair, and now brushing it so that it made smooth golden waves down Cassana's back.

"How can you know that?" Cassana questioned. "These are the Starks, the family you warned me about since I was a little girl. The betrothed that you always fought against, which made me believe he was to be a bad match. How-"

"I shouldn't have shared all of my opinions with you," her mother interrupted. "I can see now that it was wrong of me, I tainted your viewpoint, I've made this difficult for you."

"No! Mother!" Cassana protested, "I didn't mean it like that! I just meant that after all of the warning you gave me, how can you say it will be alright?"

"Because it could always have been worse," Cersei whispered, keeping her eyes focused on running the brush through Cassana's hair.

"I don't like the Starks," she continued, "Our families have never gotten along, but… I am grateful that I know you will have a husband who will treat you well. Because of that Stark honour, I don't think that Robb will ever be the kind of husband to become drunk, stupid, lecherous, or have any other vices along those lines. I'm comforted that you will not have a man like your father tied to you for the rest of your life."

"I know," Cassana admitted. "I know that I am lucky in the character of my husband. Logically, I should be fine with my marriage. I have a man who is likely to remain good, I will be able to be comfortable, and likely be able to manipulate my husband as all smart wives do. Why am I so scared?"

Cersei smiled sadly at her daughter in the mirror, "Because they are different. Marrying your father wasn't all that drastic a change for me. Of course, I became Queen and assumed all of that responsibility and power, but my environment and the people around me were all the same. The same families, the same plotting tactics, I knew what to expect."

"But you, my darling daughter, you are being taken far from your home. Not only that, but you are being married into a family with ideals different to those you are used to being surrounded by. It is unsettling, I would be scared in your position."

"You're not scared of anything," Cassana said.

"A mother is always scared when it comes to her children. We want to hold you close, keep you safe, not let anyone ever take you away." Cersei gently stroked the side of Cassana's face.

"Do you feel like that about all of us?" Cassana asked.

"Of course!" Cersei put down the brush and made Cassana turn to face her. "You are my daughter, one of my four beautiful children, and I love you will all of my heart."

"Do you love us the same?"

"Yes, of course, I love all of you equally." Cersei pulled Cassana into a close hug. "And each of you has brought something new into my life to make me so happy and proud."

"I… I've just always felt that I have to compete with Joffrey for your affection," Cassana admitted, holding tightly to her mother.

"Oh, Cassana," Cersei stroked her hair gently, "You never love anything quite the way you love your firstborn. You'll know that feeling one day, it will be the greatest joy your marriage will bring you. Your children will be the one thing your husband can never take away, no matter what."

They stood embraced for several moments, before Cersei pulled away from her daughter. There were tears in the corners of her eyes, which she swiftly wiped away. Holding Cassana by the sides of her arms, she appraised her daughter with a smile.

"You are my daughter. _Mine_." Cersei said firmly. "You are smart, and brave, and so beautiful. I know that you can make this marriage work for you."

"I know…" she muttered, "But it's not really the people that make me unhappy about it all. As I said, logically I know it all makes sense. But it's just the North… it's so cold here, so grey, so far away from everything. It's one thing to be around different people, but this new place? It's abysmal. They don't have the same _life_ as we do in the South."

"Learn to pretend. A woman's lies are the most convincing of all, especially to men. Make yourself as happy and comfortable as you can. I don't trust the Starks with you, they don't work the same way as us, and I fear that they may try to turn you against us."

"Mother!" Cassana protested. "I would never-"

Cersei cut her off with a finger to the lips. "But I do trust you with the Starks. You will know what to do."

"I can lie, but how can I hide how I feel so much? To turn my entire life into a lie? I don't know if I can," Cassana admitted.

"My daughter, most of the time you are surprisingly hard to understand, but you do wear your emotions in such a vibrant way, which lets whole world know what you're thinking. Be careful with that open honesty," Cersei warned." You're a Princess, you know how to balance lies and honesty with words, you just need to get better at doing it with yourself."

"Yes, but I won't be a Princess after tomorrow, I'll just be a simple Lady," she said sadly. "Even Myrcella will outrank me after the ceremony."

Cassana turned back to the mirror to study her reflection in the silvery surface. Her mother was right, her face showed her worry openly, and when Cassana tried to school her expression to neutrality, her Court-Face appeared. She would have to learn to get better at that.

She thought about Sansa Stark, and how the younger girl was always so polite in conversation and manner, but also showed her feelings free on her face. Would Sansa have to learn to school herself when her own marriage came around? Would she have to pretend to be happy?

"Mother," Cassana turned to glance at Cersei, "Do you think that Joffrey will make a good husband to Sansa?" she inquired.

"Joff is a wonderful boy, Sansa is lucky to be engaged to him, it is a wonderful opportunity for her," Cersei replied.

Cassana turned back to her reflection, her mother had avoided the question, which was all the answer she needed. She imagined what kind of a husband Joffrey might make, and had to stop herself from reaching up behind to touch the scar on her back.

As her mother had said, no matter how she might be nervous of her marriage, or unhappy in this place, it could always be worse. Yes, this would be her comforting thought. She would try to hold on to that, but she didn't know how well she would succeed.


	10. Yellow for Grey

**Sorry about lateness, wedding chapters always give me writer's block for some reason! As for ceremony/vows, I kind of spliced a few things together. I hope you guys don't mind, apologies if you do. Hope you like the chapter! **

Chapter 9: Yellow for Grey

"There, all done."

With a metallic click, the clasps off her cloak were snapped shut, sealing her in. Cassana rolled her shoulders under the heavy fabric. In the South, these cloaks were more ceremonial than anything else, the warmer weather and indoor ceremonies not requiring the fabric to be anything other than colourful. But here in the North they were also a shield against the cold. For it would be cold out in the godswood, where the ceremony was to be held.

A long debate had gone on as to whether the wedding would take place in the godswood, or in the little sept that Lord Stark had built for his wife. Cassana would have felt more comfortable under the eyes of the Seven, rather than standing before the unsettling heartree in sight of the strange Old Gods.

However, the sept had been deemed too small for the ceremony. Lord Stark had built it only as a small refuge for his wife to pray in, there was no way it would be able to accommodate all of the guests, not even just those of high rank. And so, it would be under the trees that Cassana said her wedding vows.

She hoped it wouldn't rain.

"You look perfect." Myrcella breathed the compliment as she took in the sight of her elder sister.

Cassana should have smiled for her, and thanked her for the remark, but she did neither of those things.

The time was here, now. This was the moment after which she could not turn back. She had to try much harder from now on. She had to be a lot more serious about the situation, and not let it rule her as she had been doing for the past few days. Trying to strengthen her resolve with the thought of doing her mother proud, she raised her chin and took a final look in the mirror.

Underneath the cloak she wore a gown more beautiful than anything she had ever owned. Seamstresses had been putting the finishing touches on it right up until that morning, and the result was sparkling.

Made out of golden fabric which complimented her complexion and House colours, the skirt fell down to the floor in waves of heavy cloth which swayed around her as she walked. The sleeves came down past her wrists, slightly covering her hands, before dropping halfway to the ground in a swath of material. The dress itself was embroidered all over with flowers, vines, and hidden stags and lions; all done in a golden thread a few shades lighter than the gown.

The bodice dipped just low enough to show her womanly figure, and a necklace of glittering emeralds set into gold fanned out the bright green stones down towards the neckline. A matching belt of emeralds clinched the dress together, while yet more of the stones had been added to her elaborate coiffure.

Cassana was vain enough to know how beautiful she looked, and to take pride in that fact. The dress was perfect, the gems were perfect, her hair was perfectly set. Altogether, she looked perfect.

And yet, all she could think about was how the image would be spoilt when she changed cloaks. The grey and white of House Stark would throw the entire golden image off completely, but she would have to keep it on right up until the bedding.

The bedding. Normally it was that which drove most brides to distraction with curiosity and nerves, but oddly Cassana had barely pondered it. Her mind had been too busy being taken up by thoughts of what the wedding itself would do. There had been no room in her head to even think about after.

"Cassana?" Cersei gently touched her daughter's hand, bringing her back to the present moment.

"Hmm?" Cassana realised that she had been spoken to recently, but couldn't recall the words. "What was that?"

Cersei smiled softly, and raised her hand to gently touch Cassana's cheek.

"I said; are you ready?"

Cassana hesitated before asking. "Can I have a moment alone?"

"Of course you can, my darling."

Cersei smiled in motherly understanding, and ushered everyone out of the room. Myrcella put up a small fuss, having wanted to walk with Cassana down to the godswood, but their mother was firm. The ladies took Myrcella down to be seated and find their own seats, while Cersei waited at the door to escort Cassana to meet her father at the door to the godswood.

Alone for the first time that entire day, Cassana allowed herself to breathe a little quicker. She'd been so nervous the whole time, but hadn't dared show it in front of anyone. What would they say? The Princess scared of her wedding day. She'd be humiliated.

Taking another glance in the mirror, she knew that she _looked_ ready. Her dress, her hair, her cloak, even the way she held herself made her look prepared for the day. But inside, she knew she didn't feel it, but that didn't really matter. She'd protested and resisted right up until the last minute, and it hadn't changed a thing. She'd tried. She'd tried and tried. All to no avail. She'd been unable to find a way out, it was all out of her hands now.

Today was the day she stopped being a Princess, a day she had dreaded her entire life. But if she was going to have her title taken from her, then she would do her uttermost to make up for it in power. And to do that, she would need to put herself here. She would have to consciously force herself into the life here, a prospect which made her frown automatically, but she didn't have a choice.

One day, Robb would be Lord Stark, Warden of the North, and she would be Lady Stark. The North itself was bigger than all of the other kingdoms put together, it was a huge place to rule. Surely she must be able to bring some Southern politics to it to make things interesting.

Her mother had faith in her. Her strong mother, who stood outside the door waiting for a daughter who had been too angry and stubborn to start this process sooner. Cassana didn't want to disappoint her. Refused to disappoint her. She knew it would be hard, and she would likely fail at times, but she would make her mother proud.

Cersei had another sad smile on her face when Cassana emerged from the room, but it changed to a speculative gaze as she looked her daughter over.

"Something changed in there, didn't it?" she inquired.

"Yes." Cassana replied

She chose not to elaborate, and her mother did not press her. She simply took Cassana's arm and looped it through her own. Then mother and daughter made their way slowly through the empty castle to where the crowds were gathered.

Robert stood by the closed doors, dressed in his Kingly best, waiting for his daughter. He appraised her as she walked steadily towards him, and Cassana thought she almost saw him smile with pride for her, but it was only almost. He gave her a gruff nod as if to say; 'thank you for turning up with a good appearance.'

"I will see you inside." Cersei said softly to her daughter, giving her a final long hug, before turning and entering the godswood without a glance at her own husband.

"You look…" her father trailed off as he stared her up and down.

He seemed to be looking at her for the first time, and Cassana felt almost defensive in the face of his gaze. She raised her chin slightly and held his gaze when his eyes reached hers. For a moment he had seemed about to smile, before an unreadable expression came over his face.

"You look just like your mother," he said in the end.

Cassana wanted to take his words as a compliment, as a rare sign of affection from her father. But somehow she knew it wasn't quite meant that way. The sadness in his voice left her in no doubt that he would rather his words were false.

"Thank you." She replied in a hardened tone, defying his wishes by accepting his compliment.

Cassana knew that her father hated the fact that whenever he looked at his children, all he saw was Lannister blood stamped onto their faces. He would much rather they had the Baratheon darkness. He would much rather that they had turned out like him.

The very thought of that made Cassana shiver in the chill air.

"May I?" he inquired formally, holding out his arm for her.

Cassana took the proffered arm gingerly, barely resting her fingers upon him.

"Thank you."

Her father tapped the doors firmly, and the guards on the inside pulled them open, revealing the assembled masses. In King's Landing, Cassana would have been greeted by the sight of richly coloured robes, glittering jewels, everything shining beneath a bright sunny sky. Not so here in the North. The cold ensured that everyone was wrapped firmly in a warm cloak, giving an almost uniform appearance to the crowd. While the grey skies above muted any other colours that dared to be present.

Everyone rose as soon as the doors opened, leaving Cassana unable to locate her family through the sea of heads. She knew where they would be though. Right at the front, sharing the first row with the Starks. All of the faces flanking her as she walked seemed to blur into a single form before her eyes, and the only thing she could see clearly was what waited for her at the end of her walk.

Robb Stark looked as noble as she had ever seen him. Black breeches tucked into black boots, a snow white shirt beneath a grey tunic, those colours echoed again in the direwolf cloak draped around his shoulders. A lady's cloak of matching colours was draped over his arm.

He looked slightly nervous as she approached, which made Cassana feel… odd, in a way. What did he have to be nervous about? He wasn't the one being plucked from his lands and title into something strange and foreign.

He wasn't the one giving up his life for marriage.

As soon as that thought entered Cassana's head, she realised that it wasn't true. They were both giving up their lives for this marriage. It wasn't something either of them had chosen, it had been put upon them when they were too young to even know their own names. Cassana felt a stab of pity for the both of them. She would never have admitted that to anyone, and she certainly couldn't afford to feel any more than that, but the fleeting feeling was there.

It was gone by the time she drew level with him, as a mixture of apprehension and determination took its place. Her father moved himself away from her side, without the warmth of his bulk next to her, Cassana shivered delicately. How did the Northerners stand this weather all year 'round?

Her father manoeuvred himself into the seat beside his wife, indicating that the others present should also be seated for the ceremony. The only people who remained standing were herself, Robb, and the Septon.

That had been the compromise reached as the ceremony had been discussed nights prior. The vows would be said in the godswood, before the heartree, but they would be the vows of the Seven.

Cassana faced her soon-to-be husband, needing to tilt her head only slightly to look him straight in the eyes. His nervousness remained, but he smiled at her, a comforting sort of smile. Cassana felt herself almost return it, her lips twitching upwards, before they stopped themselves and she kept her expression serious.

"You may now cloak the bride, and bring her under your protection."

Cassana didn't hesitate as she reached up to unclasp her black and yellow cloak, but she did feel herself flinch a little on the inside as the heavy fabric hit the earth with a soft thud. The stag she had borne for so long now lay in a crumpled heap behind her, a more fitting symbol could not have been found.

The sudden change in temperature was startling to her for a moment, goose-bumps broke out across her exposed skin as she turned to give her back to Robb. Before it could settle into her though, Robb had unfurled her new cloak and gently draped it around her shoulders. Cassana was grateful for the heavy weight and the warming it had received being held in Robb's arms.

Anxiety fluttered within her, so she looked down as she turned to face Robb once more, and took notice of the stark contrast the white and grey provided to the gold. The poor pun almost made her laugh out loud for shear absurdity, but the Septon was clearing his throat to continue the ceremony.

"Your grace, your grace. Lord Stark, Lady Stark. My lords my ladies." He intoned gravely. "We stand here in the sight of gods and men to witness the union of man and wife."

He turned first to Robb, who stood a little straighter beneath the old man's gaze.

"Robb of House Stark, is it your wish to become one with this woman?"

"It is." Robb's voice was steady, his eyes never leaving Cassana's face.

"Princess Cassana of House Baratheon, if it your wish to become one with this man?"

Cassana licked her lips once, tasting the bitter colour that had been painted upon them. She help Robb's gaze as she replied.

"It is."

"Is there anyone present who would stand between this union?" the Septon addressed the crowd.

Silence answered him. Cassana felt as if the world were holding its breath. She wanted desperately to cast a glance to her mother, to make sure that she was doing everything right, but she didn't want to break eye contact with Robb in the middle of the ceremony.

"You may now pledge your love with a kiss." The Septon continued.

This time, it was Cassana who would go first. She took a small step closer to Robb.

"With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lord and husband."

"With this kiss I pledge my love, and take you for my lady and wife."

Robb closed the remaining distance between them and bent down to press his lips to hers. Cassana was a woman, of course she had listened to songs and tales of what a maiden's first kiss was supposed to be like. According to them it was like flowers blooming in spring, a perfect summer's day, a glowing warmth from within, and lots of other such analogies.

Cassana felt none of that in this, her very first kiss. It didn't feel like much to her at all. Just a simple touching of lips, and then they were apart again. It certainly held none of the magic or passion spoken of in bardic rhyme. She was almost disappointed.

The Septon then held a crystal up above his head, a torch flame taking the place of the hiding sun, and let the rainbows rays fall over both Robb and Cassana.

"Here in the sight of gods and men…I do solemnly proclaim Robb of House Stark and Cassana of House Baratheon to be man and wife. One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever. Cursed be the one who comes between them."

With those words, Cassana was wedded.

Gone was Princess Cassana Baratheon. She would now be known as Cassana Stark, nothing more until years from now, but thankfully nothing less.

Robb took her hand in his own, his grip was warm and sure, turning her to face the crowd with him. Cheers and claps of congratulations erupted from the crowd as they stood once more to welcome the newlyweds. Cassana saw her little siblings jumping with joy for her, but she held herself serious until she looked to her mother.

Cersei was clapping delicately, the small smile that Cassana loved so much on her face, her eyes full of pride for her eldest child.

Only then did Cassana allow herself to smile as well. She managed to retain that expression as Robb led her from the godswood, and towards the waiting festivities.


	11. The Morning After - Robb

**A.N. This and the following chapter were originally going to be one, but this ended up getting longer than I had planned… You'll have Cassana's morning after as soon as I'm done with it!  
P.S. Sorry to anyone who wanted a bedding scene, but I wanted to keep the T rating.**

Chapter 10A: The Morning After - Robb

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay and breakfast here?"

Robb gestured to the table laid with all kinds of food and drink, far more than enough for two people, but Cassana still shook her head. They had only been up for a short time, yet his wife was already dressed in one of her Southern style dresses. One of her maids had joined them in the room briefly to help Cassana dress behind a screen that had not been in his room until a week ago, and brush out her bed-tangled hair. In the space of time it had taken them to do that, Robb had not progressed beyond pulling on a pair of breeches and his boots.

"I promised my mother to breakfast with her." She explained, trying vainly to get the catch of her necklace done beneath her hair. "She and my family will leave in a few days, and I am unsure when I will see them again."

"May I?" he inquired, stepping closer to her and holding out his hands to take the necklace from her.

Cassana hesitated for a brief moment, before relinquishing the gold chain into Robb hands. She turned her back and lifted her hair away from her neck. Robb wanted to run his own hands through that long fall of golden hair, the way he had done last night…

Considering the amount of fumbling it had taken Cassana, he had hoped to have another moment to reminisce on other things he had done last night, but all too quickly he had managed to do up the small golden clasp. He felt the sudden urge to bend down and place a kiss upon the bare curve of her shoulder, but as soon as she felt him let the necklace rest against her skin Cassana released her hair, allowing it to fall softly over Robb's hands.

"Thank you." She murmured, pulling herself out from beneath his touch as she turned to face him once more.

So this was how it was going to be. After last night Robb had hoped it might pull down a little of Cassana's rigid formality. Apparently not. That cool collectedness was bad around her like a protective cloak, or perhaps a suit of armour. It was all Robb could do not to growl in frustration. He settled for scrubbing a hand through his still short hair, he couldn't wait for it to grow out again.

"May I at least escort you to your mother?" He asked, falling in step with her as she made her way to the door.

"Thank you, but I believe I can find my way, and I wouldn't want to pull you away from your own breakfast." Her eyes darted quickly to the table, then back to him. A smile flickered in and out of existence on her face for a few moments before staying softly in place. "But thank you for even thinking to prepare something like this, it was very thoughtful of you."

Robb flashed a grin as he opened the door for her, that was something at least. He knew that women always liked it if their men were thoughtful. The chief complaint he had heard his mother and sisters talking about was that men were never thoughtful enough for their tastes. This always drew protestations out of the male members of the Stark family, but it certainly had taught him to think carefully about what he could do to dissuade that particular opinion of his gender.

He placed his hand behind her head and leaned to press a kiss to her temple. He did not draw back, or move in any way, but the small smile had faded by the time he pulled back. The look in her eyes spoke of no disapproval or dissatisfaction with what he had just done, but the smile was still gone.

"Well, I hope to be able to catch you for some time alone later then, my lady wife. I know we did not get much time before our marriage to get to know one another, but I hope to rectify that now. I should like to know you, Cassana, and I should like you to know me. If we can share a bed, than surely we can share parts of ourselves."

Her expression to begin with turned tight lipped, something that made his hopes plummet a little, but then twin spots of colour infused her cheeks when he mentioned bed. That made him smile midway through talking. By the time he had finished her mouth had lost its tight setting and her eyes were tinted with surprise.

It was the surprise that threw him a little. Was it good surprise, or bad surprise? Cassana gave no indication either way.

"I," she paused a moment to lick her lips, "I think that would be…good."

Good? And a pause before she had decided upon that word? Did that bode well or ill for his plans to get to know her? Did she mean good in conjunction with 'nice' and 'looked forward to'? Or good as in something merely functional that they must now do in order to make this relationship work?

"Until later, Robb." She inclined her head to him, before turning away and walking at a stately pace down the corridor.

Thoughts continued to tumble through his head as he watched her slender figure move further from him. He kept his eyes on her until she turned a corner, only then did he blink and massage his eyes with one hand. _She had inclined her head towards him_. That seemed an awfully dissent way to part with one's husband. His parents seldom left each other's company without a quick kiss to cheek or hand, was it wrong of him to hope the same for himself and Cassana?

He supposed that they really had only _just_ gotten married, perhaps his parents had not built up that kind of behaviour until later in their marriage. He constantly compared his expectations to what he saw his parents display, but was that wrong of him? It was hard to remember that they had once been in the same positions as he and Cassana were. He did not know what those early days had been like for them, but he quickly reasoned that it was unlikely they had immediately fallen into the closeness they had now.

Robb suddenly felt a fool. Here he was fretting because he and his wife did not seem to have the ease of his parents marriage, when his parents had been married 19 years to his one day. No wonder Cassana was a little held back, Robb himself was being too forward. Or was he? Surely it was normal to help them become comfortable that they start gaining a sense of closeness with one another? But then how were they to do that without first having time?

Gods help him. Only married for one day and already his wife had his head spinning like a top.

He stepped back into his room and began closing the door, when a shout stopped him.

"Robb!"

He poked his head out again to be met with the sight of Jon and Theon walking towards him, Jon being heeled by one white direwolf pup and one grey.

He very nearly kept on with closing his door, but the grey pup streaked away from Jon's side quick as his name, yipping excitedly as he raced towards Robb. The struggle he went through trying to hold his balance as Grey Wind alternated between weaving in and out of his legs and jumping up on him kept him busy long enough that Jon and Theon managed to reach his door before he could shut them out.

"We saw Cassana walking off somewhere and assumed you'd now be alone." Theon threw himself into one of the rooms chairs, lounging with leg looped over the chair's arm.

"What were you doing, waiting to pounce?" Robb asked, shaking his head as he finally closed his door.

"Maybe." Theon's rakish grin turned that 'maybe' to an 'of course'.

"I'm just surprised the Princess left so early, I expected her to take longer, or for the two of you to leave together." Jon took another seat in a more dignified manner than Theon, his face baring the same solemn expression he had been sporting for the past few days.

Ghost remained sitting to attention right by Jon's leg. Grey Wind felt no such proximity was necessary now that he had finished with his initial greeting of Robb, he promptly leaped up onto the bed he had been barred from last night, curling into a little ball right in the centre.

"You don't have to call her that anymore, Jon. Not now that she's married to our Robb here." Theon helped himself to a piece of bread and chuckled while biting into it.

"Perhaps not, but you should still show her respect." Robb swiped the break out of Theon's hand and took his own bite out of it. "She is going to be Lady of Winterfell one day."

"And here we have our future Lord talking with his mouth stuffed." Theon commented dryly. "Tell me, Jon, does that inspire respect in you?"

Jon didn't look up from gazing into the dancing flames of Robb's dying fire. If his sombre expression had changed over the course of Theon's antics it was only to deepen.

"Jon!" Theon threw a piece of fruit to accompany his cry.

Robb snagged it out of the air before it could hit his brother in the head. The amount of force Theon had put behind that would have knocked his Jon into a right bad mood.

"What is it?" His head swung in their direction, a small frown creasing his brow.

"What's the matter with you?" Robb asked. "You've been staring into nothing since you got here."

"Oh…" Jon's eyes flicked to the floor before flicking back to meet Robb's. "Never mind about that, there's just something on my mind, but I'll sort it out."

Jon might not carry the Stark name, but he carried its bloodline written all over his features. That heavy grey stare was so similar to their father's, that Robb for a moment forgot that Jon was his younger by months.

"If you say so." He said carefully, hoping that his brother would perhaps come back to him later, when Theon was not there to pull apart whatever problem it was Jon was having.

As it was, Theon didn't seem to care that much for whatever was on Jon's mind, he had other quarry to pursue that morning. He was snooping inside the various pitchers on the table, before snatching on up with a happy grin and pouring himself a cup.

"Bit early for wine, isn't it Robb? Didn't you have enough last night? And what's all this food doing in here anyway, you never breakfast in your rooms, were you expecting us?"

His questions were very deliberately baiting, he knew full well that Robb wouldn't have laid out a breakfast for his mangy friend and his brother.

"You feed yourself well enough without me having to do it for you." He quipped back. "I ordered it for Cassana, I was hoping she would stay and breakfast with me so we could talk."

"I suppose there wasn't really much time for talking last night, was there?" Theon cast a sly glance in the direction of the bed.

Cassana's maid had already tidied it before she left, stripping away the blooded sheets and promising to return with clean ones, but they knew what had happened there last night.

"If you want sordid details, you won't get them out of me." There were no chairs left for Robb to sit in, and not wanting to provoke Theon, he refused to sit on the bed. In the end, he settled for remaining where he was, leaning against one of the bedposts.

"Was she good?" Theon persisted, taking a draw from his cup.

Both Robb and Jon immediately flicked glares onto their older friend, who immediately went on the defensive.

"What? I can't ask one little question? That's not sordid details, it's yes or no!"

"She's my wife, and a former Princess." Robb stressed. "You can't ask a question that makes it sound like I just had a tumble with some girl from Winter Town."

"Forgive me, Robb, I shall phrase more delicately." Theon's tone oozed false contriteness. "Was your first night a pleasant experience?"

Robb couldn't keep his doubts inside anymore. He felt that if he tried, they might simply burst out of him at an inopportune moment.

"It was." He admitted, slumping down onto the bed, no longer caring if Theon commented. Grey Wind uncurled himself and came over to begin butting his head against Robb's hand, wanting to be stroked. He ran his fingers through Grey Wind's fur absently. "Very pleasant."

"Ho ho! So the Ice Princess can melt!" Theon crowed.

"I might not go that far." Robb said quickly.

"Why?" Jon at last put himself into the conversation, his eyes now filled with curiosity.

"Last night was amazing. It was a little… well, a little awkward at first, but then-" He shot a look at Theon. "Skipping over the sordid details, it seemed as if she was a different person."

He trailed off a bit, his mind drifting back to last night. Cassana truly had been different. He supposed it was difficult to remain held back when you were as physically close to someone as they had been, and he was glad of that.

Then a piece of cake caught him right in the ear.

"And then?" Theon prompted. Robb's icy glare not erasing his grin a whit.

"And then this morning." Robb sighed heavily, flopping backwards and allowing Grey Wind to rest his head on his chest. "I order this meal, wanting to spend some time with her how that we are married, but she left to go and breakfast with her mother."

"I suppose her family is leaving soon." Jon said slowly, clearly trying to voice the best explanation for a newlywed wife to walk out on a meal with her husband.

Theon snorted. "Clearly your charm isn't working as well as you'd hoped. Or maybe she's just impossible."

"I don't think so, she already seems to be trying a bit more since her first day." Robb defended. "But I don't know if I'm overthinking things, if I'm trying to push too hard, or if she really is standing off still."

"I think she's standing off." Theon stated bluntly. "I mean, isn't this the sort of thing women are supposed to go crazy for? The caring and extra effort and all that?"

"I would more say it could be both." Jon put in. "From what I've seen of her, she does hold herself back, I might go as far as to say she's a bit cold."

Robb opened his mouth to butt in, but a level look from Jon stopped him. He wasn't sure what he would have butted in with anyway…

"But on the other side, she's only been here for a few days. It must be strange for her, and then to have you doing all of this, it might be a bit much."

"What do I do then? How can I get to know her if she keeps putting this distance between us?" Robb asked.

"You two are beginning to sound like girls." Theon grumbled. "Since you won't give me any sordid details, I'll be off to find my own sordid activities."

Jon thought carefully about his reply, and gave it a few moments after Theon left the room.

"Maybe just give her time to adjust to being here? Maybe once she is settled, she will be more receptive to things like this?"

Robb mulled the idea over in his mind, before grudgingly admitting that it did hold merit. All he wanted was to know her now, but he supposed that that wasn't a realistic expectation. Jon was right, a few more days to get used to Winterfell and perhaps she would be more open.

"When did you get so wise for our age?" He teased Jon.

"I'm not." His brother replied, a cheeky grin forming. "You just stopped getting wise a few years back while I kept on going. You're simply behind."

Robb couldn't stop the roar of laughter at Jon's quip, and gods did it feel good to laugh after his worries this morning. It did feel a weight off his shoulders to have talked about it now. But he sobered abruptly, remembering that his own troubles had been resolved for now, he went back to thinking about Jon's earlier thoughtfulness.

"Jon, now that Theon is gone, will you tell me what was troubling you this morning?"

Jon took a deep breath, expelling it as a heavy sigh, while he fiddled nervously with Ghost's ears. The look in his eyes told Robb that he wasn't going to like whatever it was Jon was about to say, but it was too late to call his question back now.

"I've decided to join the Night's Watch." He stated simply. "I'll leave with Uncle Benjen when the royal party goes."


	12. The Morning After - Cassana

**And here is Cassana's part! Gragh, I wish I had more time to write, I really look forward to progressing with this fic, but time is so difficult to wrangle! Anyway, hope you guys enjoy, thank you for reading, and hopefully reviewing! :)  
Also! .Blank has done a lovely sketch of Cassana on her wedding day. There is a link on my profile, but I shall provide on here as well for you all to check out. You just have to take out the spaces: : / / i . . j p g**

Chapter 10B: The Morning After – Cassana

Cassana's narrow silk skirts make soft _whisk whisk_ sounds as she walked down the corridor away from Robb's room.

_And mine_, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Not all of her things had been moved in yet, but most had been shifted during yesterday's ceremonies. It was a strange arrangement here in the North. In King's Landing many couples kept to separate bedrooms, merely sharing a suite of apartments. Some cases, such as her mother and father, let husband and wife to living in entirely separated living quarters, socialising only in the public eye.

That was not how things were here though. Here husbands and wives shared the bed every night, and lived in the same rooms as each other. Cassana's question on whether that could be changed had been met with such horrified looks from the Winterfell servants that she had decided to let the matter drop. Kicking up a fuss about sharing a room with Robb was not the best way to start using the marriage to her advantage. Her own stubbornness had already set her back.

She heard a door shut loudly behind her, and turned to look before she could stop herself. Theon and Jon, heeled by two direwolf pups, were scampering down the corridor towards Robb's room. Jon cast a look over his shoulder and met Cassana's gaze. A moment of guilt flashed across at having been caught, but he was urged on around the corner by Theon before either of them acknowledged each other.

Cassana felt a blush heating her face for the second time that morning. For something she had not so much as thought of before the wedding, the bedding was certainly making her flustered now that it had happened. They were no doubt going to go and attempt to get whatever sordid details they could out of Robb about the previous night. Cassana wondered whether Robb would discuss such a thing with them, and if he did, what he would say about her.

Would he say that it had been pleasurable? He had certainly seemed to enjoy the act, but would he comment on her own performance? What if he compared her unfavourably to another woman he had slept with? Presuming he had slept with other women. Even if he hadn't, what if he thought her poor at it?

The tumbling series of thoughts served to make her angry, jealous, and embarrassed all at once. Her face felt so flooded with red that she paused for a few moments in an alcove, pressing her face against the cool stone in an effort to calm her sunset cheeks.

Gods help her! She had never been this bad in the capital. A few days in the North and one day of marriage already had her acting like a fool girl in some bard's song. This would not do, she would not have it! Sleeping with one's husband was a perfectly natural part of marriage, and nothing to feel anything about. It simply was all part of the deal, and a part of Cassana felt calmed at the thought that Robb was unlikely to tell his friends anything. She didn't know exactly why she felt relatively sure of this, but it soothed her, and so she held on to it.

Feeling more composed, she felt her cheeks to make sure the heat had faded before she stepped out once more.

And almost ran Sansa Stark over.

"Princess, I'm so sorry." The younger girl dipped into a deep curtsy.

"Now now, there's no need for that." Joffrey lifted Sansa back upright from the elbow. "You are sisters now."

Cassana's expression soured, and from the look of unease on Sansa's face the Stark girl thought that Cassana's displeasure lay with her. She was very mistaken.

"There's no need to apologise, we _are_ good-sisters now after all." Cassana assured, shooting a poisoned look at Joffrey when Sansa dropped her gaze for a moment.

"Sansa was just showing me around the castle, and teaching me some of the history behind it." Joffrey gave Sansa a warm look. "It really is most interesting, did you know that heat gets pumped around the castle from hot springs underneath? A genius invention in this place."

"Yes, Robb told me." She replied dismissively. If the place really was kept heated like that perhaps the hot springs were fading in their temperature, Cassana certainly didn't feel as warm as these Northerners seemed to. "Where is your chaperone?"

Sansa blushed scarlet and her expression turned almost scared as she began to stammer out excuses.

"My Septa, Septa Mordane, she is with us. She only went for a moment to check on Arya, then she is coming back to continue escorting us. She will only be a moment."

Joffrey only chuckled. "We won't tell if you don't."

Watching him flash Sansa a charming smile to ease the young girl's nerves, and hearing his voice drop with false honey, Cassana found herself feeling ill. She was glad she had declined breakfast with Robb, lest she have ended up vomiting it all back up now.

"Be careful, Sansa." She said, then turned away from the couple to continue on her way.

She had barely gone down one more corridor before yet another Stark came across her path. The baby, Rickon, appeared at the other end of the hallway she was walking down, his black pup at his heels. He skidded to a stop as soon as he saw Cassana, then prompted turned his heel and began running in the other direction.

Cassana suppressed a small smile. Maybe if all the Starks reacted like that, living here wouldn't be so bad after all.

That dream died when she reached the corridor upon which her mother's room was situated. Coming out of her own rooms, shared with Lord Stark of course, was Catelyn.

_Seven hells_, she thought to herself, _am I going to run into every Stark in Winterfell?_

"Cassana." Lady Stark greeted, no longer inclining her head or dropping a curtsy. "Where is Robb?"

The lack of titles and greetings grated on Cassana, as she was re-reminded that she had no need for them anymore.

"He is in our rooms, Lady Stark." She replied. "I have come to breakfast with my mother, as we have so few days left together."

"So you do…" a sympathetic look showed on her face for a moment, before disappearing once more. "Have you seen Sansa anywhere?"

"I saw her and Joffrey a few minutes gone, she was showing him the castle." It wasn't that Cassana wanted to get the Stark girl in trouble, far from it, she couldn't really care less. But Joffrey on the other hand, seeing him in the pot would be more than enjoyable.

Catelyn Stark's mouth thinned. "Were they alone?"

"Sansa assured me that her Septa had left them for a moment, but would return shortly." Cassana replied honestly, before adding not so honestly. "I would have stayed with them, were I not already running late for my mother."

Motherly concern warred with something else on Catelyn's face. She glanced in the direction Cassana had come from, sighing tiredly.

"Thank you, Cassana." She said politely. "I hope you enjoy breakfast."

As Catelyn walked away, Cassana heard her muttering to herself.

"I suppose I did walk with Brandon at Riverrun..." Followed shortly by, "That fool girl!"

Cassana made a silent prayer to the Seven that Joffrey got caught, before finally reaching her mother's door without any more appearances from any Starks.

The maid who answered the door dropped a curtsy as soon as she saw who it was.  
"Princess." She murmured, stepping out of Cassana's way.

Cassana felt a smile on her face as she moved into her mother's warm rooms. At least some people were not so quick to forget her former place as Lady Stark was.

"My daughter." Cersei rose from her seat by a table laden with food as the one in Robb's room had been. "Cara, you may leave us now."

"Her, Your Grace." The maid bobbed a final curtsy before retreating outside.

"How are you?" Cersei hugged her daughter tightly. "Are you in any pain?"

"No." Cassana assured, squeezing her mother tightly, before pulling away a little. "I ran into three and a half Starks on the way here."

"A half?" Understanding overrode the confusion on Cersei's face, and her nose wrinkled delicately. "Well, at least your father doesn't keep his close."

"There isn't enough room in the Red Keep." Cassana quipped dryly, regretting it instantly at her mother's harsh bark of laughter. She hastily changed the subject. "Have you been waiting long?"

"No, dear heart, don't worry." Cersei's smile was back as she settled her daughter into a chair, and poured her some hot, sweet, tea. When she had settled into her own chair, she gave Cassana a level look before asking: "How was it? He didn't hurt you?"

Cassana spluttered a little in her tea, and took a moment to recover herself.

"You don't waste any time do you, mother." She said weakly, throat still a little sore from the choking.

"I'm sorry, darling. But I've been worried about you all night, and I just want to make sure that you weren't ill-treated on your first night." Cersei reached out to take one of Cassana's hands in her own. "How was your first bedding?"

"He was gentle. It did hurt at first, but after that… it was… that is to say…"Cassana found herself stammering and blushing like an innocent. The secrets of the marriage bed had always been frankly discussed between mother and daughter, but now that it came to describing her own she felt remarkably strange about it.

"You enjoyed it?" Cersei smiled over the rim of her cup.

Grateful for her mother saving herself from further bumbling, Cassana slumped against the back of her chair with relief. "Yes."

She really had enjoyed it, which had come as a surprise to her. Robb had been gentle from the beginning, and slow, and calm. Cassana had done her uttermost to show no nerves, and treat the experience as something that simply must be done. However, after the initial pain had faded, her body had begun to feel… pleasure. That was the only word she had for it.

Remembering the feel of Robb's lips, his hands, when they-

"There is no shame in enjoying the marriage bed daughter." Cersei assured, cutting into Cassana's train of memory. "In fact, it is a blessing! I only hope that it remains pleasurable for you, especially with this Northern custom of sharing rooms."

"Does this make me in love with him in some way?" Cassana questioned. She certainly felt differently about him since the bedding. But was that due to any sense of emotion? Or simply because of the physical closeness they had achieved? Cassana had nothing to compare it to. She hoped it didn't mean love, she didn't believe it could happen that quickly. She did like Robb, even if his attentions could feel smothering at times.

Her mother's laugh dissipated her fears, and she helped herself to one of the pastries laid out on the table.

"Enjoying the marriage bed does not equal love any more than marriage does. But what do you think of him? I haven't asked you this question yet, I wanted to wait until after the ceremony."

Cassana considered the question for a moment, taking the time to delicately bite at her pastry.

"I didn't want to." She admitted. "But I think I do now. I haven't spent much time with him, I haven't wanted to, but he hasn't shown me anything as of yet to dislike about him. He is thoughtful, more so than most men, and attentive. Perhaps that is one thing, I find him a little over attentive at times. I can tell he wants to get to know me more, but he seems to want it all now. I'm not ready for that, I certainly haven't been over the past few days, and I don't feel that much more ready now."

"You will have to be ready sometime." Cersei warned. "But it is a good start that you like him, and a good sign that you are cautious. Too often young women take a man on his first appearance, throw their hearts at the man's feet, only to later have them trampled in the dust."

"He ordered a breakfast for us this morning, and he has asked to spend time together later." Cassana admitted.

"He does seem keen." Cersei took a sip from her cup. "But that won't last forever. The longer you put him off, the less effort he will be inclined to make. Once he thinks there is no point, he will stop, and your marriage will grow cold, and when that happens it will be harder for you."

"But mother, everything you've raised me to mistrust in the Starks, you want me to just throw that aside and embrace them?"

Cersei made a vexed sound in the back of her throat. "I told you all of those things because I wanted to safeguard you, and because I was angry about the situation. However, more than I distrust the Starks I want what is best for you. I want your happiness and wellbeing above all else, Cassana. In King's Landing I could ensure it for you, but soon you will be on your own. You cannot let how you feel now get in the way of what could be your future."

"But I'm not ready to open up to him." Cassana said.

"You can wait your entire life and never be ready. You said that you wanted control, you said you wanted to make this benefit you. You must set the terms of your getting to know each other. Don't let him always be the one to move this forward. If you want control, you will have to simply take it."

"I know." Cassana sighed heavily. "I know. What I don't know is how. Give me political intrigue over courtship any day."

"You never have been a girl prone to flights of fancy over men." Cersei stated with a smile. "I fear Myrcella might be…"

"Teach her." Cassana implored. "Don't let her end up like me. Too old and stubborn."

Cersei threw back her head and laughed at that. "Too old? At sixteen? Oh my daughter, how young you really are. Let me give you the advice I should have done so long ago, and see if you want charm Robb Stark around your little finger."


	13. Dismissed

**So…I'm not dead, just really busy and honestly have barely any writing time these days. I'll update when I can, sorry :/ Also you've probably noticed the name change, that is on account of my boyfriend finding out my name and I had to act fast to keep my stories hidden from him, I'm shy like that. Anywho, hope you enjoy! Fingers crossed I can update again soon, aiming to update 'To Be or Not to Be' next.**

**Chapter 11: Dismissed**

The following morning Robb was the one who was up and dressed first, before the grey dawn had even spread across the sky. Cassana drifted in and out of sleep as he dressed. Raising her tousled head when he made a noise, but sinking back to the pillows when she saw again that it was just him.

It was novel for him to be seeing her like this. In wakefulness Cassana was so aware of everything she did, always so in control. Half asleep the way she was she seemed… softer. That was the only word that came to his mind. Her face was smooth and relaxed, not held in any kind of stiff expression. Her voice was a light mumble of nonsense rather than her usual cultured tones. He found it rather endearing to see her like this.

He had been loath to leave her alone in the bed. Her hair splayed out on the pillow revealed a bare shoulder peeking above the fur coverlet. He knew that that bare shoulder was only the tip of her completely bare body. A soft, curving, warm body that he hadn't wanted to move away from.

Yesterday's awkward morning had led to a more than satisfying afternoon. Robb hadn't seen Cassana since she left the room to breakfast with her mother, but then a presence had appeared at his elbow as he took a break from sparring to watch Bran and Prince Joffrey. A flash of gold resolved itself into Cassana's hair, still loose around her shoulders, the way he decided he secretly liked most. She had donned a heavy cloak over her Southern dress, but goosemarks peppered what skin was still exposed.

She was watching the match closely, and a hard smile curved her lips at the same moment he heard a cry from the boys.

"I demand a rematch!" Joffrey's voice shrilled about the yard.

Robb turned back to the sparring quarter to see the Prince leaping back onto his feet, a muddy patch soiling the back of his breeches. He looked back at Cassana and saw that the hard smile had become a satisfied smirk that he couldn't help but share. He guessed that the entirety of the practice yard felt the same about seeing the Princeling bested.

Cassana had remained for the rest of the session, watching him as he sparred against various opponents, even clapping softly when he struck a particularly good blow. When people began to disperse she had walked with him and asked him about his swordplay and continued the conversation onto his other passions. She had disappeared again when her ladies came to take her to a tea, but she had been there.

Then last night… a grin spread across his face, and he walked over to the side of the room where Cassana's nightdress had been flung. She hadn't replaced it when they had finished having sex, something Robb was immensely grateful for. Lying skin on skin with her as he fell asleep had been a wonderful feeling. He still felt that he barely knew her, but being physically intimate with her was fast becoming one of his favourite pastimes. Whatever else came out of the marriage, and he hoped they would be good things, he enjoyed the sexual aspect of it.

He placed the white garment on the edge of the bed, within easy reach for when she woke up, and gathered up his cloak as he silently left the room. Other men moved quietly about the castle, all making their way to the courtyard where the hunting party was assembling. King Robert was eager to find some game in the Northern wilds, and Robb was pleased with the outing. It had been a long time since he had gone on a hunt, the thrill of it already began to sing in his blood.

**/*0*/**

_Cassana stood to the right of the dais, between her mother and sister, all three women attired in sombre black. The only jewellery Cassana wore was a silver bracelet, a fact that confused her for a_

_moment, she didn't remember ordering any silver jewellery from the jeweller. But the sound of her father clearing his throat snapped her attention back to the ceremony._

_"The Gods have taken my sons away from me long before their time should have come." King Robert Baratheon's voice boomed out over the assembled court. "This tragedy has shaken my family, but it will not shake the line of succession. The loss of my male heirs has granted me the freedom to bestow the crown upon one more worthy of ruling the Seven Kingdoms."_

_"That's you, my love." Cersei whispered to her daughter, giving her a light push from the small of her back._

_Cassana took one step forward, tilting her chin regally and staring out at the crowd._

_"My daughter, Princess Cassana Baratheon." Robert lifted himself from the throne and came to stand beside her. "Hear this declaration; on the day that the Gods take me to be reunited with my sons, my daughter shall take the throne. She shall be Queen Cassana Baratheon, First of her Name, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. All hail your Crown Princess!"_

_"Crown Princess Cassana! Crown Princess Cassana!"_

_The cry went up from the throats of all assembled, it rang with tones of joy and respect, the people wanted this. They wanted her to be Queen. She would be loved, revered, renowned and remembered. She would be the greatest ruler Westeros has ever seen! She would-_

_"Lady Cassana."_

_A fly buzzed at her shoulder, but she brushed it away. She wanted all her attention focused on this moment. The day her father acknowledged her as the best, the day she made her mother proud, the day Joffrey no longer existed. The best day of-_

_"Lady Cassana."_

_It was that fly again, bumping harder against her shoulder. Once more she swatted at it, but her hand met something larger than a fly, it felt like another hand. The scene before her began to dissolve away, the voices fading._

_"No!" She stretched out a hand, vainly trying to catch the moment before it disappeared._

"Lady Cassana."

This time Cassana was conscious to hear the voice and feel the hand upon her shoulder. Anger spiked within her, flashing her eyes open to give a poisonous look at the woman, and her next swat his with more force than those before. The maid recoiled her hand, her mouth falling into an 'o' of surprise, she quickly began making apologies.

"I'm sorry, my lady." She bobbed a curtsy and kept her eyes lowered. "But it is getting late and I thought you might wish to be roused for the day."

"Did I ask to be woken?" Cassana inquired icily.

"Uh, no, but I thought-"

"Don't think, that's not what you're here for. You're here to do, not think." Cassana snapped. These Northern servants really were out of line. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lady." The woman bobbed another curtsy.

"Good." Cassana moved to push herself into a sitting position, before realising that she was completely naked beneath the sheets. Not wanting to look like she was retreating, she disguised her return to lying down as a dismissive flop. "Where is my normal maid?"

"Uhm, I've been assigned to you. It was thought that perhaps it would be good for you to become accustomed to those of us who work in the castle."

"Was it now?" She nearly hissed the words out. "In the future such decisions are not to be made without consulting me first, I do not tolerate having choices regarding myself made without my consent."

"Yes, my lady." The maid said for a third time. "Shall I help you get ready for the day?

"No. Send for Lady Swyft, Lady Swann, and Lady Brax, they will attend me. Also send word that I want a breakfast brought up to my rooms." Cassana waved the woman away. "And later this afternoon have all the maids assembled for me, I will choose which of you will attend me, and it shall not be you. Go now."

The maid only bobbed one final curtsy before she turned and left, causing Cassana's mouth to twist into a sour expression. Really, servants here required better training. She would have to include that in her getting to know Robb and securing her control in this place, he should know the true standards his household should keep.

Now that she was alone she allowed herself to sit up, still clutching the sheet to her chest, and cast around for her nightgown. Not seeing it on the floor where she remembered Robb throwing it, she turned and found it resting on the pillow beside her. Since she doubted the silly maid from earlier would have had the initiative to do this, it must have been Robb.

Perhaps another girl would have smiled fondly at the gesture, but she was not another girl. As opposed to giggling or twirling around the room at the considerate action, Cassana's expression turned thoughtful as she regarded the white dress she held in her hands. She wasn't wondering why Robb had done it, she already knew that he was a considerate man, she was wondering why he'd had to.

On their first night she had replaced her nightgown before falling into sleep beside him, granted that night the dress hadn't been flung to the other side of the room, and getting out of bed to cross cold flagstones had not been a pleasant thought. Especially after some…rigorous physical activity. That's what she told herself.

She had let Robb fall asleep holding her last night, not rolling away to her own side as she had on their wedding night, hoping that this allowance would lead him to believe she was interested and genuine. Once she was sure that he was indeed sleeping she had shifted out of his arms and put some distance between them, the sheets had been cold against her skin, but she had trusted her body to warm them up soon. A little bit of shivering was a small price to pay to not be caged in someone's arms.

But no more than two minutes later a strong arm was back around her waist and Robb's body was pressed against hers. It had been surprising, she wasn't used to being caught off guard like that. It was one thing to feel his body when they moved together, or if she was the one leaning on him, but this was entirely different. Still, it was cold in the North and he was warm, so she let the arm stay. That's what she told herself.

But the truth of it?

She had had one more shiver, not from the cold for that had gone when she began sharing Robb's warmth, it had been a shiver of desire. She liked the feel of his skin against hers, she hadn't wanted to put a layer of cloth of a span of distance between that. Out in the open she liked to maintain distance as was proper, but when they were alone in the bed… that was a completely different story.

Whenever she had thought of marriage in the past it had been about the strategy of it. How she would manipulate her husband, how she would stretch her control over a new household and land, and how she would survive being married. That's all her mother had ever talked about, how to survive marriage, as if it was a horrible thing to be borne with a frozen mask. And so Cassana had never thought of marriage as pleasurable.

She still wasn't sure that it was, not the marriage part at least, but the marriage bed definitely was. What did that make her? A woman who still hadn't made up her mind about her husband, yet enjoyed such intimate acts with him? Was she no better than her base instincts? Already she could feel her heart beating faster when she remembered the events of last night, it took several deep breaths for her to regain control over her mind.

She would not let this have an effect on how she made up her mind about Robb. And she would certainly not let it have an effect on her plans to take control of the relationship.

Thankfully a knock on the door, several really, took her mind from that predicament.

"Cassana? Can we come in?"

That was Corrina, the only person outside of her family whom Cassana allowed to use her real name. Well, back when she had had control over who used her name. It seemed that people were now all too ready to act familiar with her.

"A moment." She called back, swiftly pulling her nightdress back on, shuffling under the covers to tug it down to full length. "Come."

As always Illya and Mabelle tumbled into the room before Corrina, the younger girls with big grins plastered on their faces.

"We saw the men leaving for the hunt this morning! They looked so handsome and serious." Illya sighted dreamily, leaning against one of the posters of Cassana's bed. "They are certainly different to the men back home, but these Northerners have a certain charm."

"As if your father would let you marry one." Mabelle quipped, causing Illya to wrinkle her nose.

"I wouldn't want him to, then I would have to live-" She quickly cut herself off when she remembered who else was in the room. "That is, it's very lovely here, and Winterfell is… uhm…"

"Yes? Go on?" Cassana arched an eyebrow coolly.

"Nothing." Illya wouldn't meet her eyes.

"Pass me my robe." Cassana ordered, pushing back the covers and swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. "The servants in this place truly are awful, you three will have to help me train them."

"Uh…"

Cassana looked up from pulling on her robe to see Mabelle biting her lip and refusing to meet Cassana's gaze directly. She turned her gaze to Illya, who quickly dropped the eye contact and moved to stand beside Mabelle. Corrina was the only one who held Cassana's stare, but not for long, with a sad smile she turned to fetch Cassana's brush from her vanity table.

She returned her attention to the other two, the girls stood close together, as if that could save them from the wrath they were anticipating.

"And what, pray tell, did you mean by that?"

"It's just…" Illya floundered, looking to Mabelle.

"Well, we were your ladies-in-waiting, and you are married now." Mabelle's tone didn't waver, but she wouldn't look up as she spoke. "And you are no longer part of the royal family, so you don't need-"

"Get. Out."

They both looked up at that, wide eyes meeting flashing green.

"But, but we don't leave for another week yet, we can stay with you until then." Illya;s words came out in a rush. "We're sorry, but it's just-"

"GET OUT!"

Cassana so rarely allowed herself to shout that the girls all but ran each other over in their scurry to leave the room. Cassana herself barely noticed, fighting furiously to get back under control. She hated raising her voice, argh! Before she realised it she had reached out and yanked free a section of the hung-back curtain that surrounded her bed. The fabric tore from its fastenings and now half of it hung limply.

"I'm sure someone will fix that later today."

Corrina's calm tone just grated on Cassana even more. When the dark haired girl stepped forward to brush out Cassana's hair her hand shot out and knocked the brush from Corrina's fingertips.

"What's the matter?" The other girl frowned.

"You too." Cassana said. "Go on, follow them."

"I had actually planned on staying." Corrina knelt to the floor and picked up the brush. "My father has allowed it, and I thought you might like some familiar company."

A black thing coiled inside Cassana's chest, darking her vision. Corrina must want to laugh at her, the girl had probably been jealous of Cassana her whole life. Always Cassana had held the higher rank, and now that they stood closer Corrina wanted to be around to savour the moment.

"I don't need your pity." Cassana spat.

"Pity?" Corrina's frown deepened. "Cassana, I'm your friend, I just-"

"Out, now." Cassana cut her off shortly.

Corrina stiffened, her expression hardening. She took the brush back to the vanity with controlled steps, placing it back in its place with slow precision, then made her way for the door. She paused with one foot across the threshold, but didn't turn back to face Cassana.

"I am your friend, Cassana, so I'm going to tell you this. You push people here away like this and you are going to be very very lonely."

The only reply Corrina received was the sound the door made as she pulled it shut behind her.


End file.
